
VJ 






A * * <") C- P -A^ 1 * a- <iy i. 't-t' 4 - x 

, > ' 1 ' o* ss - ^ A 0 * 0 V N ^ > " j: 

n *A <l .^./W. > ^ ^ f^. S /s «v AV 

A aV - /AC A o A ^ 

t/» .< v . ^\W//i -. V S> 

vV </> 


■“» A ^ * 

V c_ 

\ o' : *2 

^ = «* -n*. - ^ 

> V V" -rf-. ^ 



* p % 

• ^ p -' 

i +*■ ■? : 

0 o 

V *<> ✓> 

r 


V * ^ ^ vV <. ^ 

^ (2 op <* JF&iPbk '* ' r >- 

A ^ ° 1 A -0 




/ 

y ^K> 3 — <r O » 

» = M o ’ IV 


(5 



' ^ ? 
•a v 




>. oo x. i 

& L '~ LytA/ O r \0 ( ~£) ^ ^ ~ A 1 

,\ v V .„, *"'\ «/ \'V>-*6 °*° v s 

* t v * «^ v *fSte'* *+ > 

^ ^ : ^\%y\ c <£ c ^ ^ * 

V / \ : M ; / ^ "• 



v* ^ 

x* x V s v 

✓ *t . , s . • \ 

0 N c b 11 * S' « 

c % s> 



s' 0 

v , 0 -' v oS*o N cS ’*>. *«I'* A 0 ' s 

vO v 4 S *t C> V +'"> * ^ 

\/&V :*fc V* : 

S’ iJ ji o \ W * S 
^ ’V n V <?’ * 

^ . 0 N <- /! "<<> " " iSS’ a v * “ « O 

r 0 k rt c ^ S S <*» V /J ^, -f O 

0 * _c55\v A - aN * ^/TZ^z, * 



S> S 


* ° '”'rv 3H °’ v s 

S * .Wr. wV*®*'-*- * *'•" 
v ,. . ^jgrV S s \yws s ’%■ 

c » - • * S'" * * S' ,•' jJL* So ° ' ‘ V .‘ 0 N * 


>*% 





O'’ -o S 0 

S s * « , ly * * N° .1*0, 

v s ^ ' /✓ C> V *■ _ ^ 



o 

>> - 

O, *y 0 , . * < 0 ' <f 

'•'S’ % o°- 

> ° o' ; ^ 

V o 


☆ ft 



S , v > » * S>. 

-A v 1 o 


IvS ^ - \ 


S S- 

v ^ 




















































r • 


' 

■ 

* 


' 


































































ZPOIPTnE-iA-IR, BKS 


AFTER THE GERMAN. 

BY MRS. A. L. WISTER. 


THE SECOND WIFE. After the German of E. MARLITT. 

By Mrs. A. L. Wister. i2.mo. Fine cloth. 

THE OLD MAM’SELLE’S SECRET. After the German of 
E. Marlitt. By Mrs. A. L. Wister. i2mo. Fine cloth. #1.50 

“A more charming story, and one which, having once commenced, it seemed 
more difficult to leave, we have not met with for many a day.” — The Round Table. 

GOLD ELSIE. After the German of E. Marlitt. By Mrs. 
A. L. Wister. i2mo. Fine cloth. #1.50. 

“A charming story charmingly told.” — Baltimore Gazette. 

COUNTESS GISELA. After the German of E. Marlitt. 
By Mrs. A. L. Wister. 121110. Fine cloth. $1.50. 

“ There is more dramatic power in this than in any of the stories by the same 
author that we have read.” — New Orleans Times. 

THE LITTLE MOORLAND PRINCESS. After the Ger- 
man of E. Marlitt. By Mrs. A. L. Wister. i2mo. Fine 
cloth. #1.75. 

“ By far the best foreign romance of the season.” — Philadelphia Press. 

ONLY A GIRL. After the German of Wiliielmine von 
IIillern. By Mrs. A. L. Wister. i2mo. Fine cloth. $ 2 . 00 . 

“ This is a charming work, charmingly written, and no one who reads it can lay 
it down without feeling impressed with the superior talent of its gifted author.” — 
Pittsburg Dispatch. 

ENCHANTING AND ENCHANTED; or, Fairy Spells. 
From the German of Hacklander. By Mrs. A. L. Wister. 
Illustrated. 121110. Fine cloth. $1.50. 

“A charming book in the best style of German romance, pure in sentiment and 
elegant in diction, with a nameless artlessness, which gives tone to the language ol 
the heart.” — Christ inti hitelligencer. 

WHY DID HE NOT DIE? After the German of Ad. von 
Volckhausen. By Mrs. A. L. Wister. 121110. Fine cloth. $1.75. 

“ From the beginning to the end the interest never flags, and the characters and 
scenes are drawn with great warmth and power.” — New York Herald. 

HULDA ; or, The Deliverer. After the German of F. Lewald 
By Mrs. A. L. Wister. 121110. Fine cloth. #1.75. 


*** For sale by all Booksellers, or will be sent by mail, postage paid, upon re- 
ceipt of price by 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., Publishers, Philadelphia. 


THE 


Old Mam’selle’s Secret. 


AFTER THE GERMAN 


OP 


. MARLITT, - 


E 


Author of “Gold Elsie” and “Countess Gisela.” 


H\ MRS. A. L. WISTER. 



PHILADELPHIA : 

1. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 

18 7 5 . 


"PZ'i 

•TfciO 

cofi 3 


Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., 

In the Clerk’s Office ot tne District Court of the ifnitea States in and 
for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 


4 8 6 5 5 .5 

JUL '1 7 1942 



t 


THE OLD MAM’SELLE’S SECRET. 


CHAPTER I. 

“ — - — but, for Heaven’s sake, Hellwig, where are you 
g >ing now ?” 

“Directly to X , with your kind permission,” was 

the half-contemptuous reply. 

“ But there is certainly no road thither over such a hill 
as this. You know nothing about it, Hellwig. Hallo ! — 
stop ! — I’ll get out ; I have no desire to be upset and 
have all my bones broken. Will you be kind enough to 
stop ?” 

“Upset you? I! ’Twould be the first time in my 
life,” were the words upon the lips of the other; but a ter- 
rible crash interrupted him, and the voice of the speaker 
was silenced effectually. For a moment, the snorting and 
stamping of a horse were audible ; then the animal, having 
recovered his footing, galloped madly away. 

“This is an upset indeed,” growled the first speaker 
at last, sitting upright on the damp, freshly-ploughed field. 
“Hellwig ! Boehm ! are either of you alive ?” 

“ I am,” said the voice of Hellwig, not very far off, as he 
crept about on the sodden ground searching for his hat. 
Every spark of self-confidence, of jeering superiority, had 
utterly vanished from that feeble voice. The third victim, 
too, was now heard complaining, as he tried to lift his 
unwieldy form upon all-fours from close contact with his 

( 3 ) 


4 


THE OLD MA M' SELL E ’ S SECRET 


mother-earth. At last all three regained that posture 
whereby nature distinguishes man as the noblest of God’s 
creatures, and began to reflect upon what had happened, 
and what was best to be done. 

In the first place, the light wagon in which the three 
gentlemen had left their homes on that morning upon a 
hunting expedition, was now lying completely overturned 
by the side of the little hill which had caused the disaster, 
displaying its four wheels to heaven ; the sound of the 
horse’s hoofs as he galloped off had died away some mo- 
ments before, and pitchy darkness brooded over the con- 
sequences of Hellwig’s rash self-confidence. 

“Well, one thing is certain, we can’t spend the night 
here. Let us go forward,” said Hell wig at last, with some 
reviving animation in his tone. 

“Oh yes, resume the command,” growled his stout 
friend, privately assuring himself that the splintered re- 
mains of his beautiful meerschaum, and not of one of his 
ribs, were making that mysterious rattling sound in the 
region of his heart, — “resume the command, do, — it be- 
comes you so well, just after you have been within a 
hair’s breadth of murdering two fathers of families with 
your confounded self-conceit, — no, I will not spend the 
night in this den of lions — but you shall devise some way 
out of it. A dozen horses shall not drag me from this spot 
without a light. 1 am up to my knees in mud, and the 
night air will, I know, fill my bones with rheumatism for 
the next six months, — that I must resign myself to, and 
it is all your fault, Hellwig. But I will not be so insane 
as to risk putting out my eyes or breaking my arms and 
legs in the thousand holes and ditches that abound in this 
confounded country.” 

“Don’t be a fool, doctor,” said the third; “you can’t 
stand here like a milestone, shifting from one leg to the 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


5 


ather. while Hell wig and I grope our way to the town and 
procure help. I knew some time ago that this famous 
Jehu was driving too much to the left. We have only to 
go directly back across this ploughed field, and we shall 
certainly come to the road again, — so come along without 
any more grumbling, and think of your wife and children, 
who are perhaps drowned in grief at this moment because 
you are not at home at supper.” 

The stout man muttered something into his moustache 
about ‘wretched management,’ — but left his post and 
groped his way with the others. The task of finding the 
road was indeed laborious and disagreeable enough. The 
earth stuck in great clods to their hunting-boots, and every 
now and then a foot put forward with unwary confidence 
would splash into some deep puddle, sending the dirty 
water like a fountain over the coats and faces of the three 
wretched wanderers. Still they regained the road with- 
out any serious mishaps, and strode forward bravely when 
they felt firm ground beneath them, — even the doctor’s 
good humour gradually returned, and he hummed aloud, 
in a terrible bass, “ Merrily jog the footpath way !” 

In the vicinity of the little town a light appeared in the 
darkness — it advanced toward the travellers with agitated 
haste, and Hellwig recognized in the broad laughing face 
on which the light of the lantern shone, his servant Hem- 
rich. 

“Ah, gracious powers I Herr Hellwig, is it really you?” 
shouted the man. “ My mistress thinks you must be lying 
stone-dead outside of the town.” 

“ But how comes your mistress to know of our mis- 
fortune ?” 

“ Why, you see, sir, a wagonload of players drove into 
the town to-night,” — to the honest fellow all actors, jug- 
glers, rope-dancers, &c. were always ‘players,’ — “and 

1 * 


6 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


when the driver pulled np before the ‘Lion,’ there was our 
horse, poor beast, trotting behind as though he belonged 
to them. The host of the ‘ Lion ’ knows the old horse well 
enough, and brought him home himself. Ah, what a 
fright Madame had ! She sent me off directly with the 
lantern, and Frederika is brewing a cup of chamomile 
tea.” 

“Chamomile tea! Hm — I think a glass of Burgundy, 
or at least a good foaming mug of beer would be more 
appropriate.” 

“Yes I thought so too, Herr Hellwig; but you know 
how Madame ” 

“ Very well, Heinrich, very well, — now go forward with 
the lantern. Let us get home as soon as possible.” 

When they reached the market-square the three compan- 
ions in misery separated with a silent shake of the hand — 
one most dutifully to drink his chamomile tea, and the 
others in the humiliating consciousness that curtain lec- 
tures awaited them at home. For their respective wives 
were never very gracious toward the ‘ noble passion for 
the chase ’ which distinguished their lords, and now their 
only propitiatory offerings, their hunting bags, lay crushed 
under the overturned wagon, while the sight of their 
muddy hunting coats would surely call forth exclamations 
of dismay in place of any welcoming embrace. 

The next morning bills printed in huge red letters were 
found posted up at all the street corners, announcing the 
arrival of the ‘renowned juggler Orlowsky, of great ar- 
tistic fame,’ while a young woman went from house to 
house in the town offering tickets for sale. She was very 
beautiful, this young creature, with her wealth of magnifi- 
cent golden hair, and a commanding figure full of grace 
and dignity ; but her lovely face was pale, ‘pale as death, 
people said, and when she lifted her darkly fringed eyelids, 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 7 

which, indeed, she did but seldom, a wonderfully touching 
tearful glance shot from the dark-gray eyes. 

She came at last to Hellwig’s house, the finest on the 
market-square. 

“Madame,” said Heinrich, opening the door into the 
sitting-room on the ground-floor, and holding it ajar, with 
his hand upon the highly polished door-handle, — “the 
player’s wife is here.” 

“What does she want?” called out a stern, hard voice 
from within. 

“Her husband is to play to-morrow, and she wishes to 
sell Madame a ticket.” 

“We are respectable Christian people here, and have 
no money for such folly, — send her away, Heinrich.” 

The man closed the door again. Then he pinched his 
ear thoughtfully and made a wry face, for the ‘player’s 
wife’ must have heard every word. She stood still for a 
moment as if crushed — a fleeting blush coloured her pale 
cheek, and a heavy sigh escaped her. Just then the sash 
of a little window opening upon the passage was gently 
lifted, and the suppressed voice of a man was heard de- 
siring a ticket, — a Hand received it, and placed a shining 
thaler in the young wife’s palm. Before she could look 
up, the window was shut down, and a heavy green cur- 
tain hung in thick folds behind the panes. Heinrich 
opened the street door now with a smile and an awkward 
bow, and the young woman took up again her weary way. 

Heinrich then picked up a pair of freshly blacked boots 
that he had put down upon the woman’s appearance, and 
went into his master’s room, which master reveals him- 
self to us by daylight as a little elderly man with a world 
of kindness and good humour in his thin, pale face. 

“Ah, Herr Hellwig,” said Heinrich, while he was put 
ting the boots in their place, “I am glad that you bought 


8 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


that ticket. The poor woman looked so unhappy. I am 
heartily sorry for her, though her husband does earn his 
living so disreputably. He’ll have no luck in this place, 
mark my words, Herr Hellwig.” 

“And why not, Heinrich?” 

“Why? because our poor beast of a horse, which had 
just caused such an accident, stuck so close to his wagon 
when it entered the town. No good can come of that. 
Depend upon what I tell you, Herr Hellwig, those people 
will have no luck herel” 

As his master returned no reply to this gloomy pro- 
phecy, he shook his shock head and left the room, stoop- 
ing in the hall to readjust the mat before the door of his 
stern mistress’s room. The ‘player’s wife’ had pushed 
it a little aside with her foot. 


CHAPTER II. 

The town hall was crowded with spectators, and fresh 
throngs were continually arriving. Old Heinrich stood 
where the press was greatest, trying to gain comfortable 
standing room by squaring his elbows and making private 
attacks upon the toes of his neighbours. “Gracious 
powers! if Madame only knew that, there would be a 
storm!” he whispered grinning to an acquaintance, as he 
pointed a horny finger toward one of the elevated seats 
at the side of the hall. “ My master will be brought to 
confession early to-morrow morning, I’ll warrant.” In 
the direction of his finger sat Herr Hellwig, with his 
former companion in misfortune, Dr. Boehm. 

Honest Heinrich had really had some difficulty in dis- 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


covering his master, so closely crowded were the benches. 
The programme for the evening’s entertainment promised 
much that was new and wonderful, and concluded as fol- 
lows: 

‘Madame d’Orlowska will appear as an Amazon. Six 
soldiers with loaded muskets will fire upon her, and with 
one flourish of her sword she will divide in two each o f 
their six bullets in the air.’ 

The inhabitants of X had been attracted chiefly by 

the hope of seeing this performance. The beautiful young 
creature had excited universal interest, and every one 
wished to see how she would look when the six muskets 
were pointed at her. But the previous performances of 
her husband were also received with applause. He was 
what ladies call an interesting looking man. Of middle 
size, with great grace of movement, regular but strikingly 
pale countenance, and most expressive eyes, his peculiarly 
accented German indicated his Polish nationality at once, 
and made him still more attractive as a son of that un- 
happy down-trodden land which has for so long excited 
the sympathies of the civilized world. But all this was 
forgotten when the six soldiers, under the command of a 
sergeant, marched into the hall. A murmur like the 
sound of the sea arose among the crowd, and was foB 
lowed by a dead silence. 

The Pole stepped to a table and made up the cartridges 
in sight of the audience, tapping each ball with a ham- 
mer, that all might be convinced of their reality. Then 
he presented one to each soldier, who loaded his musket 
in full view of every one present. An anxious pause 
ensued. The juggler rang a little bell, and from behind 
a screen his wife stepped upon the stage, walked slowly 
forward, and placed herself opposite the soldiers. She 
was a strange and wonderfully beautiful apparition. A 


10 


•TEE OLD MAM.' SELL E ’ S SECRET. 


shield covered her left arm, in her right hand she held & 
glittering sword. The white folds of some heavy text- 
ure fell to the floor from under the shiny scales of the 
armour which covered her hips, while a dazzling breast- 
plate concealed her magnificent bust. But the dazzle of 
her armour faded beside the rich glimmer of those waves 
of golden hair that rolled down from under her helmet 
until they almost touched the border of her robe. 

The pale, anxious look rested full upon the barrels of 
the deadly weapons which were all pointed toward her. 
Not an eyelash quivered, not even the faintest motion in 
the folds of her white garment could be discerned — she 
stood there as if hewn out of marble. The last word of 
command rang through the listening hall — six shots 
sounded like one — the sword whistled through the air, 
and twelve half-bullets rolled upon the floor. 

For one moment the tall form of the Amazon stood im- 
movable ; the smoke of the powder obscured her features ; 
through its thick clouds her armour shone but dimly. 
Then she suddenly tottered, her sword and shield fell 
clattering upon the floor, she clutched wildly at the air 
with her right hand as if seeking some support, and, with 
a heart-rending shriek, — “Oh, God! I am wounded!” she 
fell into the arms of her husband, who hurried to her as- 
sistance. He carried her behind the screen, and then 
rushed back like a madman to interrogate the soldiers. 

It seems that they had received strict directions to bite 
off the balls while biting their cartridges, and keep them 
in their mouths — this was the simple explanation of the 
trick. One of them, however, a stupid country fellow, 
had become utterly confused at the sight of the crowd, 
and had lost his head at the critical moment. When the 
five others at the passionate command of the juggler pro- 
duced the balls from their mouths, he, to his horror, found 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


11 


in his only a little powder — his ball had entered the un- 
fortunate woman’s breast. 

At this discovery the wretched husband, beside himself 
with rage and despair, struck the involuntary criminal in 
the face. 

Immediately the wildest confusion arose. Several ladies 
fainted, and countless voices called out for a physician. 
But Dr. Boehm, who had comprehended matters at a 
glance, was already behind the screen in attendance upon 
the wounded woman. When, at last, he came back to 
Hellwig with a face pale with dismay, he whispered : 
“There is no hope. That beautiful creature must die.” 

An hour later the juggler’s wife lay dying on a bed at 
the 1 Lion. ’ They carried her from the hall on a sofa — 
old Heinrich insisting upon being one of the bearers. 
“Ah, Herr Hellwig, was I right or wrong about that 
unlucky beast of ours?” he asked as he passed his mas- 
ter, with the large tears rolling down his cheeks. 

The woman lay quite still, with closed eyes. Her 
unbound hair fell in masses over the pillow and cover- 
ing of the bed — the golden ends lying in curls upon the 
dark floor. By her side knelt the juggler, with her hand 
resting upon his head which was buried in the cushions 
of the bed. 

“Is Fay asleep?” asked the woman almost inaudibly, 
as she wearily opened her eyes. 

“Yes,” he murmured through his white lips. “The 
daughter of the host has taken her into her room ; she 
is sleeping gently there in a little white bed — our child 
is well cared for, Meta, dear love.” 

The woman looked with an indescribable expression 
of anguish at her husband, in whose eyes shone the light 
of despair. 

“Iasko,” she sighed, “I am dying.” 


12 


TEE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


The juggler sank back upon the ground and writhed 
as in acute physical agony. 

“Meta! Meta!” he cried, beside himself, “do not leave 
me! Thou art the light upon my gloomy way; thou 
angel who hast pierced thine own breast with the thorns 
that spring from my despised calling — that mine might 
receive no sting! Meta, how can I live if thou art not 
beside me with thine ever-watchful eyes, and thy heart 
full of unspeakable devotion ! How can I live never to 
hear again thine intoxicating voice, to look into the 
heaven of thy smile ! How can I live with the torturing 
consciousness that I have snatched thee to my arms only 
to crown thy life with misery! O thou God above us, 
canst thou plunge me into such a hell?” — Then, more 
gently, “I will atone for my sin against thee, Meta, I 
will work for thee, support thee by hard, honest labour 
— together we will seek out some quiet retired spot, and 

there live happy and contented ” he tore the spangled 

velvet mantle from his shoulders — “away with this vile 
stuff! It shall never touch me again! Meta, stay with 
me, — we will begin a new existence together!” 

A painful smile hovered upon the lips of the dying 
woman. She raised her head with difficulty; he put his 
arm under it, and with the other hand pressed her pale 
face convulsively to his breast. 

“Iasko, be composed — be a man!” she gasped, and her 
head fell back ; but again she opened her eyes, as though 
her parting soul made one more despairing effort to cleave 
for a while to the dying body — those lips so soon to 
crumble into dust must sphak once more ; the heart could 
not cease to beat and sink into the earth with the yearn- 
ings of maternal anxiety unsatisfied. 

“Thou art unjust to thyself, Iasko,” she said after a 
pause, during which she had collected all her remaining 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


13 


strength — “thou hast never caused me misery, — I have 
had love such as few other women can boast. I knew 
what I was doing when I gave my hand to the juggler, 
— and I left my father’s house, where they rejected me on 
account of my love, with a happy heart to wander through 
life at thy side. If shadows fell upon that life, I only was 
to blame, — I who had overestimated my strength which 
failed sometimes beneath the disdain that thy position 
calls forth. Iasko,” she continued still more gently, “a 
man is exalted above the assaults of the narrow preju- 
dices of the world by the thought that his art, whatever 
it may be, ennobles him, — but a woman writhes beneath 
the sting of the world’s contempt. Oh, Iasko, anxiety 
for Fay makes my death-bed a bed of thorns. I conjure 
thee, — let the child know nothing of thy calling!” 

She seized his hand and pressed it closely. Her whole 
soul gazed once more from her beautiful eyes, whose light 
death would so shortly extinguish. 

“I know what a cruel thing I ask of thee, Iasko,” she 
went on imploringly, — “part from Fay, — give her into 
the charge of simple, honest, kind people, that she may 
grow up to lead a quiet happy home-life. Oh, promise 
me this, my only love!” 

In a voice choked by sobs her husband promised what 
she asked. A terrible night ensued — the death-struggle 
was long and agonizing, but the dawning morning threw 
the roses of its ray through the window upon a fair dead 
form whose transfigured features showed no trace of an- 
guish. Orlowsky had thrown himself upon the stiffening 
body, and the exertions of several men were necessary to 
drag him from it to another room. 

On the evening of the third day a great crowd followed 
the body of the player’s wife to its last resting-place. 
Kind hands had covered the coffin with flowers, and Hell- 

2 


14 


TEE OLD MAM* SELLS' S SECRET. 


wig walked after it among the most respectable men oi 
the place. The juggler staggered and would have fallen 
as the first shovelful of earth fell dull upon the coffin, had 
not Hellwig supported him, and led him back to the inn. 
There he remained several hours alone with the broken- 
hearted man, who until then had repulsed all attempts to 
express sympathy, and had even tried to lay violent 
hands upon his own life. Those who passed the door 
of the room from time to time afterward heard the ago- 
nized sobs of the unhappy man, interrupted by bursts of 
passionate tenderness, which were replied to by the gen- 
tle voice of a child. It was a heart-rending sound — the 
mingling of the tear-choked voice, and the silvery, laugh- 
ing, childish tones. 


CHAPTER III. 

The evening was far advanced. A keen November 
wind swept through the streets, and the first winter 
snow-flakes were whitening the roofs of the houses and 
the dark freshly-made mound which covered the fair body 
of the wife of the Pole. 

The table was spread in the sitting-room at the Hell- 
wigs. The' service was of massive silver, and the pattern 
upon the white damask table-cloth shone like satin. 

The lamp stood upon a little round sofa-table, behind 
which sat Frau Hellwig knitting a long woollen stock- 
ing. She was a tall broad-shouldered woman, just over 
forty. Perhaps, while surrounded by the golden light of 
youth, her face might have been thought handsome, for 
even now it possessed the classical outline demanded as 
a condition of regular beauty. But it could never have 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE S SECRET. 15 

been charming, for spite of the large well-shaped eye and 
the fair, smooth complexion, the want of what only true 
sensibility of soul can give to a face must always have 
been felt. That countenance could never have stiffened 
into such a hard stony expression if it had been informed 
by any warmth of heart. Those bright-gray eyes could 
never have shone so icily after a youth full of the joys 
and sorrows which every susceptible kindly nature must 
experience. Smooth bands of hair were laid above a 
brow still fair, and the rest of the head was covered by 
a spotless muslin cap. This cap and a black dress of the 
plainest cut with tight sleeves and narrow white cuffs at 
the wrists gave a puritanical air to her whole appear- 
ance. 

Now and then a side door opened, and the wrinkled 
face of the old cook peeped through the crack. 

“Not yet, Frederika l” said Frau Hellwig, each time in 
a monotonous voice, without looking up, but her needles 
flew more quickly, and the thin lips were compressed with 
a peculiar expression of self-control. The old cook knew 
perfectly well that ‘Madame’ was impatient — she liked to 
aggravate the mood — and at last said in an almost tearful 
tone as she peeped into the room : 

“Ah, gracious Heaven! where can the master be? The 
roast will be spoiled, and when shall I be thro'ugh with 
my work ?” 

This remark did her no good, for Frau Hellwig never 
suffered her subordinates to express any opinion in her 
presence, but the old servant retired with her reproof, 
very well satisfied, for she had seen the proof of her power 
in the wrinkle that had appeared between Madame’s eye- 
brows. 

At last the street door was opened as the full, deep 
sound of the bell rang through the house. 


16 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


“Ah, what a pretty noise!” cried the clear voice of a 
child outside. 

Frau Hellwig laid the stocking she was knitting in a 
basket at her side, and arose. The impatient expression 
of her features was succeeded by one of astonishment, as 
she looked across the light of the lamp toward the door. 
Some one outside was rubbing his feet long and carefully 
upon the mat — that was her husband. 

Immediately afterward he entered the room and ap 
proached his wife with rather uncertain steps, for he car- 
ried in his arms a little girl about four years old. 

“ I have brought you home something, Brigitta,” he said, 
coaxingly, — but he stopped short as he met his wife’s eye. 

“Well?” she asked, without moving. 

“I bring you a poor child ” 

“Whose is it?” she coldly interrupted. 

“ She is the child of the unfortunate man who has just 
lost his wife so distressingly. Dear Brigitta, receive the 
little one kindly.” 

“But only for this night?” 

“No ; I have given the father a sacred promise that the 
child shall be brought up in my house.” 

These words were spoken quickly and firmly, as though 
the speaker wished them well over. 

The white face of hi9 wife was suddenly coloured by a 
deep flush, and a sarcastic expression wreathed her lips. 
She left her place and came slowly forward, saying, as she 
touched her forehead with malicious significance: 

“I am really afraid, Hellwig, that you are not quite 
right here. To require of me that I should accede to such 
a proposal, that I should convert my house, which I en- 
deavour to render worthy to be a temple of the Lord, into 
an asylum for players’ children, implies something more 
in you than mere folly.” 


THE OLD MAM SELLERS SECRET. 


17 


Hellwig started, and a most unusual flash sparkled from 
his kindly eyes. 

“You have deceived yourself grossly, Hellwig,” she 
continued. “ 1 shall not receive beneath my roof this child 
of sin, the child of a lost creature overtaken in her iniquity 
by the visible wrath of the Lord.” 

“ Indeed 1 is that your view of it, Brigitta ? Let me ask 
you then what iniquity your brother was guilty of for 
which he .was killed by a stray shot while hunting? He 
was pursuing his own pleasure, while this poor woman 
died while fulfilling a hard duty.” 

The flush suddenly left the cheeks of his wife, and she 
became ashy pale. She stood silent for a moment, with 
her astonished eyes resting upon her husband, who had 
so suddenly developed such an amount of energy in her 
presence. 

In the mean while the little girl whom Hellwig had set 
down upon the floor, had taken off her pink hood, and ex 
posed to view a charming head covered with thick chest- 
nut curls. The little cloak too had fallen off. How stern 
and hard Madame’s heart must have been not to have taken 
the child at once to her arms 1 Was she entirely blind to 
the inexpressible grace of the little figure tripping about 
the room upon the prettiest feet in the world, gazing at 
the new surroundings with childish wonder ? The rosy 
shoulders contrasted charmingly with the light-blue wool- 
len dress, the delicate embroidery of which had perhaps 
been the last work of loving hands now cold in death. 

But the tasteful dress, the careless, lovely flow of the 
curls upon brow and neck, and the graceful movements Oi 
the child, only excited Madame’s dislike. 

“ I will not have this puppet an hour in my presence I” 
she said suddenly without returning a syllable to her hus- 
band’s striking reproof. “The forward little thing, with 
B 2* 


18 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


its curled hair and bare shoulders, has no place in our dis- 
creet serious household — it would be opening our doors 
to all levity and dissipation. Hellwig, you will not cast 
this apple of discord into our midst, but will see that the 
child is taken hence to where she rightly belongs.” 

She opened the door which led to the kitchen and called 
in the cook. 

“Frederika, put this child’s hood and cloak on,” she 
said, pointing to the little garments upon the floor. 

“ Go back instantly to your kitchen !” said Hellwig in a 
loud angry voice, motioning her to the door. 

The wondering servant vanished. 

44 You drive me to extremities by your sternness and 
cruelty, Brigitta!” cried her angry husband. “Ascribe 
it to yourself and your own narrow prejudices if I now say 
to you what otherwise had never passed my lips. Whose 
is this house which, as you falsely declare, you have tried 
to constitute a temple of the Lord ? Mine ! Brigitta, you 
came to this house a poor orphan — in the lapse of years 
you have forgotten it — and, alas that I must say it 1 the 
more labour you have spent upon this temple, as you call 
it, the oftener that the words God and Heaven, and Chris- 
tian Love and Humility are upon your lips, the more hard, 
self-righteous, and uncharitable do you become ! This 
house is mine, I pay for the bread which we eat, and I 
declare to you now that this child shall stay where she is. 
And if your heart is too narrow and loveless to feel a 
mother’s tenderness for the poor little orphan, I can at 
least require from my wife that she shall, in conformity 
with my will, afford her the requisite feminine protection. 
If 3 T ou do not wish to lose all authority with our servants, 
give the necessary orders now for the reception of the 
child, otherwise I shall give them myself.” 

Not another word did Madame’s white lips utter. Any 


THE OLD MAM 1 SELLERS SECRET. 


19 


other woman would at such a moment of utter helpless- 
ness have resorted to a woman’s last weapon— tears, but 
that relieving fountain seemed dried for those cold eyes. 
Her entire silence, her freezing manner, enveloped her 
whole form like a suit of armour, and struck a chill into 
all around her. She took up a basket of keys, and, still 
silent, left the room. 

With a deep sigh Hell wig took the little one by the 
hand, and walked up and down the room with her. He 
had fought a hard battle to assure this forsaken little being 
a home in his house. He had mortally offended his wife. 
Never, never, he knew well, would she forgive him for 
the bitter truths that he had just spoken, for she was im 
placable. 


CHAPTER I Y. 

Meanwhile Frederika placed upon the table a little 
pewter plate, a child’s fork and spoon, and a fresh napkin. 
The bell rang without, and Heinrich admitted a little boy 
of about seven years of age. 

“ Good evening, papa,” cried the boy, shaking the snow- 
flakes from his fur cap. 

Hellwig took his child’s head fondly between his hands 
and kissed his brow. 

“Good evening, my boy,*’ said he. “Well, have you 
had a pleasant afternoon with your little friend?” 

“Yes, but that stupid Heinrich came for me much too 
soon.” 

“Your mother sent him, my child. Come here, Na- 
thanael, see this little girl — her name is Fay.” 


20 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


“Nonsense! How can her name be ‘Fay’? That’s no 
name at all 1” 

Hellwig’s eyes beamed tenderly upon the little creature 
to whom a mother’s tenderness had given the fanciful pet- 
name which suited her so well. 

“Her dear mother called her so, Nathanael,” he said 
gently, “her real name is Felicitas. Is she not a poor, 
dear little thing ? Her mother was buried to-day, — she is 
going to live with us, and you will love her like a little 
sister.” 

“No, papa, I don’t want a little sister.” 

The child was the image of his mother. His features 
were fine, and his complexion remarkably fair and clear, 
but he had a habit of resting his chin upon his breast and 
peering at you with his large eyes from under his eye- 
brows, which gave him a peculiar expression of cunning 
and slyness. His head sank now deep upon his breast, — 
he lifted his right elbow, as if in an attitude of defense, 
and looked crossly from under it at the strange little 
girl. 

She stood opposite him, shyly plucking at her little 
dress, — the ‘big boy’ evidently impressed her, but gradu- 
ally she approached him, and without allowing herself to 
be terrified by his defiant attitude, she seized, with spark- 
ling eyes, upon the toy sword which hung at his belt. He 
pushed her away angrily and ran to his mother, who at 
that moment entered. 

“But I don’t want any sister!” he repeated almost 
with tears. “Mamma, send that rude little girl away! I 
want to be alone with you and papa!” 

Frau Hellwig shrugged her shoulders in silence, and 
stepped up to her place at the table. 

“Say grace, Nathanael,” she said in a monotone, and 
folded her hands. Immediately the child clasped hi a 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SL0RE1\ 


21 


hand3, bent his head in an attitude of humility, and said 
a long grace. Under the circumstances, this prayer was 
a miserable profanation of a beautiful Christian custom. 

The master of the house could not eat. The flush of 
mental excitement still coloured his usually pale forehead, 
and while he played mechanically with his fork, his troubled 
glance rested upon the sullen faces of his wife and child. 
But the little girl was nowise daunted. She quietly eat 
her dinner, carefully putting some bonbons, which Hell- 
wig laid beside her plate, into her little pocket. 

“Those are for mamma,” she said, confidingly; “she 
loves bonbons: Papa always brings her great boxes full 
of them.” 

“You have no mamma!” said Nathanael, angrily, to 
her across the table. 

“Oh you know nothing about it,” she replied, in great 
excitement. “I have a much prettier mamma than 
yours !” 

Hellwig stole a shy, terrified glance at his wife, and his 
hand made an involuntary movement, as if to shut the 
rosy little mouth, which so poorly understood how to 
study its own interests. 

“Have you seen to her bed, Brigitta?” he asked 
hastily, but in a gentle, coaxing tone. 

“Yes.” 

“And where is she to sleep?” 

“In Frederika’s room.” 

“ Is there not room enough, at least for the first few 
weeks, in our bed-room?” 

“Yes, if you wish to have Nathanael’s bed taken out 
of it.” 

He turned away with an expression of vexation, and 
called in the servant. 

“ Frederika,” he said, “this child will be under youi 


22 


THE OLD MAM* SELLERS SECRET. 


care at night, — be kind and gentle to her. She has been 
used to a mother’s loving tenderness.” 

“I shan’t hurt the • hild, Herr Hellwig,” said the old 
woman, who had evidently been listening, — “but I am 
come of respectable people, and have had nothing in my 
life to do with playerfolk. It would be a comfort, at least, 
to know that her parents were married.” 

She glanced aside at Frau Hellwig, evidently expecting 
an approving look for her bold answer; but Madame was 
untying Nathanael’s napkin, and looked as though she 
had heard and seen nothing of the whole matter. 

“This is too muchl” cried Hellwig, refally provoked. 
“Must I learn to-day that neither sympathy nor pity is 
to be found in my house ? And do you consider yourself 
justified in cruelty, Frederika, because you are ‘come of 
respectable people’? Be satisfied that this child’s parents 
were honestly married, — but I tell you now that any ne- 
glect or ill treatment of her on your part shall be visited 
upon you most severely.” 

He seemed weary of the contest, rose and carried the 
child into the servants’ room. She willingly allowed her- 
self to be put to bed, and soon slept soundly, after pray- 
ing, in a sweet, childish voice, “for papa and mamma, 
for her good uncle Tvho would carry her back to-morrow 
to mamma, and for the lady with the naughty face.” 

Late at night Frederika went to bed. She was angry 
that she had been kept up so late, and made a great noise 
in the room. 

Little Felicitas started from her sleep, sat upright in 
bed, and brushing the curls from her eyes, cast a terrified, 
searching glance around the smoky walls and meagre 
furniture of the small, dimly-lighted room : 

“Mamma, mamma!” she cried, loudly. 

“Be still, child! your mother is not here, — go to sleep 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


23 


again 1” said the woman harshly, as she went on un- 
dressing. 

The child looked at her in terror, — then began to cry 
gently. She was evidently frightened by the strange 
place. 

“And now she will rouse the house, and I must bear 
this too ! Stop that noise, you player’s brat !” She raised 
her hand threateningly. The child, frightened, hid he?r 
head under the bedclothes. 

“Ah, mamma! dear mamma!” she whispered, “where 
are you? Take me into your bed, — I’m so afraid, — I will 
be a good little girl, and go right to sleep. I saved you 
some bonbons, dear mamma, — Fay has something for 
you. Or only let me hold your hand, and I will stay 
quietly in my little bed, and ” 

“Are you going to be quiet?” cried Frederika, in a 
rage, running to the child’s bedside. There was no more 
noise, only now and then a sound of suppressed sobs from 
under the bedclothes. 

Long after the old servant was sleeping the sleep of 
the just, the child, with its little heart full of terrified 
longings, was crying softly for its dead mother. 


CHAPTER Y 

Hellwig was a merchant. Heir to a consideraV^c 
property, he had increased his wealth by extensive com- 
mercial operations. But, as his health was uncertain, he 
had early retired from the business world to the narrow 
fcircle of his native town. There the name Hellwig car- 
ried great weight with it. From time immemorial the 


24 


THE OLD MAM’ SELLERS SECRET. 


family had been of the utmost respectability, and for 
years the most honourable offices in the town had been 
constantly filled by some one of the name. The most 
beautiful garden to be found outside the gates of the town, 
and the finest house upon the market-square, had been in 
possession of the family for many generations. The house 
reared its stately front on the corner of the Square at the 
entrance of a steep ascending street. Behind the window- 
frames of the upper stories snow-white curtains hung im- 
movably from year’s end to year’s end. Only three times 
a year, and then just before some high holiday, did they 
disappear from behind the glass while the rooms were 
swept and dusted. At these times the huge brazen 
dragons’ heads, which poured the rain-water from the 
gutters on the high roof upon the pavement below, and 
the birds as they flew by, looked in upon the hoarded 
treasures of the old merchant’s house; looked in upon 
the old-fashioned splendour of the apartments — upon 
cabinets of costly inlaid workmanship with shining locks 
and handles — upon the rich silk damask covering of the 
huge down cushions of the sofas and chairs — upon high 
Venetian mirrors built into the wall from floor to ceiling, 
— and, in the guest-chambers, upon the cushioned and 
canopied beds, from the linen upon which issued a strong 
odour of lavender. 

These rooms were uninhabited. The Hellwigs had 
never conformed to the custom of renting a story of their 
house. 

For a century a grand and solemn silence had reigned 
in the upper parts of the mansion, only interrupted, at 
long intervals, by a ceremonious marriage or baptismal 
feast, and now and then, in the course of the year, by the 
sounding steps of the mistress of the house, who kept 
there her treasures of linen, silver, and porcelain. 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS'S SECRET. 25 

Frau Hellwig came to this house a child of twelve 
years of age. The Hellwigs were her relations, and 
adopted her when her parents died, leaving their children 
destitute. The young girl led a hard life with her old 
kinswoman, who was stern and prpud. Hellwig, the only 
son of the house, felt kind sympathy for her at first, but 
this sympathy in time was transformed into love. His 
mother opposed his choice, but the lover persisted, 
through many hard contests of will, and at last married 
as he wished. He had mistaken the young girl’s sullen 
taciturnity for maidenly reserve, her coldness of heart for 
dignified decorum, her obstinacy for strength of character 
— and marriage alone banished him from the heaven he 
had looked for. In a short time the kindly man felt the 
iron pressure upon his life of a despotic will, and where 
he had looked for grateful devotion he found only the 
grossest egotism. 

Two children were born to him — little Nathanael and 
his brother John, eight years the elder. The latter, when 
nine years old, had been sent by his father to a relative, 
a professor, the principal of a large school for boys, upon 
the Rhine. 

Such were Hellwig’s family circumstances at the time 
when the juggler’s child was received into his house. 
The terrible tragedy of which he had been an eye-witness 
had moved him deeply. He could not forget the beseech- 
ing, unutterably humble expression of the unfortunate 
woman as she stood before his door. His kindly nature 
suffered in thinking that perhaps his house had been the 
last at which she had felt the sting of the world’s scorn 
for her husband’s calling. Thus, when the Pole made 
him ' acquainted with the promise exacted by his dying 
wife, he instantly offered to take the child himself. Only 
when, with the child in his arms, he left the inn with the 

3 


26 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


heart-rending farewell of the unhappy father yet ringing 
in his ears, and the child, clasping her arms around his 
neck, asked for her mother, did the thought strike him of 
the opposition which he must in all probability encounter 
at home ; still he hoped everything from the beauty and 
grace of the little one, and from the fact that a daughter 
had been denied to his own marriage. With all his expe- 
rience he had as yet no suspicion of the utter hardness of 
his wife’s character, or he would have turned upon the 
spot and delivered the child again to her father’s arms. 

If the relation between Hellwig and his wife had been 
none of the closest before the coming of the child into 
the household, it now seemed as if a wall of granite 
divided the pair. Everything in the house went on as 
before. Each day Madame made her accustomed round 
through kitchen and pantries ; her step was by no means 
a light one, and there was something in that dull, firm 
tread, exasperating to nervous ears. Her right hand 
glided over furniture, window-sills, and banister — Ma- 
dame had a custom, which amounted to a mania with 
her, of brushing her large white hand with its round 
finger-tips and broad nails, over everything, and then 
carefully examining the palm to see if any atom of dust 
or cobweb could be found. Prayers were prayed as be- 
fore, and the voices which praised the eternal Mercy and 
Love of God, and repeated his command which enjoins 
upon us to love even our enemies — preserved the same 
unmoved monotone. The family assembled at meal- 
times, and on Sundays husband and wife walked side by 
side to church. But Frau Hellwig, with an iron determ- 
ination, avoided addressing her husband. She answered 
his questions and remarks in the curtest and coldest 
manner possible — and even contrived never to look at 
him, but always ever or beyond him. The little intruder, 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 27 

too, had no existence for her. On that first stormy even- 
ing she had ordered Frederika always to place a plate 
upon the table for the child, and had thrown into the old 
servant’s room all that was necessary for her little bed. 
She had also ordered Frederika to open before her the 
little trunk containing the dainty wardrobe which had 
been brought from the ‘Lion,’ and to take out and hang 
up in the open air all the articles it contained, as all 
exhaled the sweet odour of some delicate perfume laid 
among them. Thus began and ended her forced care for 
the ‘player’s child,’ and when she returned to the room 
on that evening the whole affair was for her a closed 
chapter. Only once afterward a spark of sympathy seemed 
kindled within her, when a sempstress was sent for and 
ordered to make two dresses for Felicitas after the same 
stiff pattern which she wore herself; and while they were 
a-making, Madame took the struggling child upon her lap, 
and worked at her hair with brush, comb, and pomatum, 
until the lovely curls were sufficiently straight and smooth 
to be braided in two ugly knobs at the back of her head 
The detestation which Madame entertained of grace and 
beauty, of everything which came in contact with her 
narrow prejudices, and which sprang from an apprecia- 
tion of ideal excellence — this detestation was stronger 
even than her obstinate determination to ignore the 
presence of the child in the house. Hellwig could almost 
have wept when he beheld his little darling thus dis- 
figued, while his wife, after having exacted this sacrifice 
to her prejudices, was, if possible, colder and more repel- 
lant to the child than before. 

And yet the little one was not to be pitied, — she could 
always flee from those Medusa eyes to a warm heart. 
Hellwig loved her as though she were his own. It is true 
he did not dare to make this depth of affection apparent; 


28 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECL ET. 


he had exhausted his stock of energy on the evening when 
he brought the child home, but he guarded Felicitas with 
never-tiring vigilance. Like Nathanael she had her own 
peculiar corner in her foster-father’s study, — there she 
could nurse her dolls undisturbed and rock them asleep 
with the little songs she had learned at her mother’s knee. 
Nathanael did not go to the public school, he received in- 
struction from private tutors at home, and when Felicitas 
attained her sixth year she shared this instruction. As 
soon as the snow melted and the crocuses and snowdrops 
bordered the yet empty flower-beds, Hellwig took the 
two children daily to his large garden outside of the 
town, — there they played and studied, only returning to 
the house in the market-square at meal-times. Frau Hell- 
wig seldom visited this garden, she preferred to sit knit- 
ting in her large, quiet room, behind the spotless curtains ; 
and there was a peculiar reason for this preference. An 
ancestor of Hellwig’s had laid out the garden in antique 
French style. The sandstone mythological figures and 
groups which were scattered here and there in the grounds 
were master-pieces of art in their way. It is true the 
light-coloured forms stood out in strong relief against the 
stiff cypress walls. The charming but unveiled form of 
a Flora, the bare shoulders and arms of a struggling Pros- 
erpine, and the muscular figure of her grim lover struck 
the eye upon entering the gates, and these figures were 
abominations in the sight of Madame. At first she had 
peremptorily ordered the removal of such ‘ sinful repre- 
sentations of the human form,’ but Hellwig had rescued 
his favourites from destruction by reference to his father’s 
will, which expressly forbade the removal of the statues, 
whereupon Madame had climbing plants and roses of 
every description planted at the bases of the mythologi- 
cal apples of discord, and before long, Pluto’s grim coun- 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


29 


tenance was surmounted by a green ivy wig. But one 
line morning, Heinrich, by his master’s orders and to his 
own great delight, pulled up and cleared away the green 
parasites, until not the smallest vestige of them remained 
around the statues, and from that time Frau Hell wig, for 
her soul’s sake, and because the statues had witnessed 
her ignominious defeat, avoided visiting the garden. All 
the more did little Felicitas enjoy it and make it her 
home. 

Behind the imposing cypress walls there was a wide 
extent of meadow and lawn, — gigantic chestnut-trees 
reared their trunks from the flower-strewn grass, and a 
rippling brook intersected one part of the green plain, — 
its banks were fringed with alders and hazel bushes, and 
the thickly-sodded dam which had been thrown up for 
protection against the spring floods, was brilliant in May 
with yellow buttercups, while later in the season blue- 
eyed grass twinkled up from beneath your feet. 

Felicitas studied diligently and was never restless at 
her lessons. But when in the afternoon Hell wig declared 
study over for the day, she suddenly underwent a trans- 
formation. With the flush of serious application yet on 
her cheek, she grew wild as if intoxicated by liberty, — 
she would bound apparently aimlessly over the green 
lawn, tossing her arms in the air, graceful as the young 
steed of the desert. She would climb with lightning ra- 
pidity the tall trunk of a chestnut-tree, and her face, sur- 
rounded by the masses of her loosened hair, would laugh 
out from among the branches, — or she would lie upon the 
green bank beside the brook, her hands folded under her 
head, and, gazing up into the arch of cpiivering chestnut 
boughs above her, would dream — build fairy fabrics of the 
world of the future, such as must always crowd the brain 
of an imaginative child. Beside her the water murmured 

3 * 


30 


TEE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


monotonously, the sunbeams danced upon the ripples and 
shimmered through the hazel bushes in bright flecks, like 
half-veiled mysterious fiery eyes, bees and beetles hummed 
above her, and the butterflies, wearied with fluttering 
around the rare exotics that filled the garden beds, found 
here their promised land, and buried themselves in the 
lily-cups that almost touched the little girl’s cheek. 

Sometimes white fantastically-shaped shining clouds 
would float above the tree tops, and then an incompre- 
hensible past would suddenly fill the memory of the 
thoughtful child. Her mother’s dress had been white 
and shining too, the light of the candles had illuminated 
the flowers that had strewn her narrow bed when Felici 
tas had last seen her. She wondered still why her mo- 
ther had had flowers in her hands and had given her 
none, and why they would not let her kiss mamma, as 
she had always done every morning with such delight. 
She did not dream that that bewitching face which had 
bent over her with such passionate tenderness, had long 
since mouldered away in the earth. Hellwig had never 
dared to tell her the truth, for although now, after the 
lapse of five years, she no longer wept bitterly for her 
parents, nor longed so passionately to see them, still she 
talked of them incessantly with touching tenderness, and 
trusted with implicit faith in Hellwig’s ambiguous prom- 
ise tihat she should one day see them again. 

It never occurred to him that the veil that he held so 
lovingly before her might fall from his hand all too soon; 
he never thought of his own death, and yet this grim 
phantom was noiselessly but surely coming very near, 
lie had an incurable affection of the lungs, but, like all 
affected by this insidious disease, had the most sanguine 
hopes of recovery. 

It was now necessary to wheel him in an invalid char* 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


ai 


to his beloved garden every day; but this he coisidered 
only a passing weakness, which did not hinder him from 
laying plans of every description for the future. 

One afternoon, Dr. Boehm entered Hellwig’s study. 
The sick man sat at his desk writing busily, — several 
cushions, which had been placed in the chair behind and 
on each side of him, propped the emaciated haggard form 
in an upright position. 

“ Hallo !” cried the doctor, threatening him with his 
cane. “What folly is this? Who, in Heaven’s name, 
gave you leave to write? Come, put away the penl” 

Hell wig turned round, a bright smile played about his 
lips. “There it is!” he rejoined, “doctor and death are 
sure to come together. I am writing to my boy— to John 
— about little Fay, — and just as you enter the house, I, 
who never in my whole life thought less about dying, am 
writing this sentence — it has just left my pen.” 

The doctor stopped and read aloud: “I rely with con- 
fidence on your steadiness of character, my dear John, 
and wish to bequeath to you unconditionally all care for 
the child entrusted to my guardianship, in case I should 
leave this world sooner than- ” 

“ Oh, enough ! not another word to-day !” cried the doc- 
tor, as he opened a portfolio and laid the half-finished 
letter within it. Then he hastily felt the invalid’s pulse, 
and glanced furtively at the hectic spot that was burn ng 
on either emaciated cheek. “You are a perfect child, 
Hell wig,” said he; “let me only turn my back and you 
are sure to commit some gross indiscretion.” 

“And you tyrannize over me outrageously. Only wait, 
though, — next May I shall slip through your fingers, and 
you can come alter me to Switzerland if you like.” 

A few days afterward the windows of the sick man’s 
bedroom stood wide open, and a man in deep mourning 


32 


TEE OLD MAM’SELLE'S SECRET. 


left, as was the custom, the sad intelligence at the houses 
of fi iends that Herr Hellwig had departed this life an 
hour previously. 


CHAPTER YI. 

Beneath the windows, hung with green curtains open- 
ing upon the wide marble paved hall where the beautiful 
unhappy wife of the juggler had stood five years before 
crushed by Madame’s contempt, was now placed the cof 
fin containing Hellwig’s mortal remains. They had sur- 
rounded the earthly shell of the former merchant and 
financier with all the pomp of wealth. The decorations 
of the coffin were of massive silver, and the bead of the 
departed rested upon white satin cushions. And, terri- 
ble contrast 1 around the shrunken dead face, fresh, beau- 
tiful flowers were exhaling their young life, doomed to 
an early death that they might adorn the dead. 

Crowds of people came and went, whispering and 
noiseless. He who lay there had been a wealthy, influ- 
ential man, — now he was dead. Men’s eyes glanced 
shyly at the pale drawn face, bu^ rested long on the 
pomp and show by which it was surrounded — the last 
flicker of earthly splendour. 

Felicitas cowered in a corner behind the large boxes 
in which were growing orange-trees and oleanders. They 
had not allowed her to see her uncle for two days, — his 
room had been closed upon her, and now she knelt there 
upon the cold stone and gazed at that strange face from 
which death had taken so much of kindly expression. 
What did the child know of death ? She had been with 
him in his last moments, but had never dreamed that the 


THE OLD MAM’SELLE'S SECRET. 


33 


rod stream, which suddenly gushed from his lips, would 
end everything. His gaze had rested upon her with in- 
describable tenderness and anxiety when she was sent 
from the room. Outside, in the street, she had run an- 
grily up and down beneath the windows of his bed-room, 
which were wide open. Why were they so careless as 
tc leave tnem open when they knew how anxiously he 
a\ oided every draught of air ? She wondered that no fire 
was made in his room at dusk, and when she begged re- 
peatedly to be allowed to carry the lamp and a cup of tea 
to her dear uncle, Frederika said angrily: “Are you 
really not right in your head, child? Or don’t you un- 
derstand German? I tell you he is dead! dead!” And 
now when she saw him again, she scarcely knew him, 
he was so changed, and the idea of death began to dawn 
upon the child’s mind. 

Whenever a fresh crowd of the towns-people, impelled 
by curiosity, filled the hall, Frederika would come in from 
her kitchen, wipe her eyes with the hem of her apron, 
and praise the virtues of the man, whom, during life, she 
had so often wilfully annoyed. 

“But look at that child,” she interrupted herself an- 
grily, as she discovered Felicitas’ pale face, with its hot, 
dry eyes among the orange-trees. “She does not shed 
a tear! Ungrateful thing! She can’t have a spark of 
affection in her!” 

“You never loved him, and you are crying,” remarked 
the little girl pointedly but in a low voice, as she with- 
drew more entirely into her corner. 

The hall was gradually emptied of the throngs from 
the lower classes who now took up their positions in tho 
street outside to witness the forming of the funeral pro- 
cession — and the friends of the family appeared, who, 
after a moment spent beside the coffin, betook themselves 


34 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 


to the sitting-room to express their sympathy to the 
widow. 

There reigned in the high-arched hall a momentary 
stillness which might have been called solemn had it not 
been interrupted now and then by the low murmur of 
-oices in the adjoining room. 

Suddenly little Felicitas started from her deep reverie, 
and gazed terrified through the glass door which led into 
the court-yard. There, behind the panes, she saw a 
wonderful apparition — he was certainly lying here with 
sunken eyes, and strange lines around his tightly closed 
lips, and yet there he was, gazing searchingly into the 
silent deserted hall — alive again, with the same kindly 
expression of countenance, although the head was partly 
concealed by some dark covering. 

It seemed like something supernatural when the latch 
was gently lifted, and the door opened noiselessly. The 
strange apparition entered the hall. Yes, those features 
were indeed strikingly like Hellwig’s, but they belonged 
to a woman — to a little old lady who, dressed richly 
after a fashion long passed away, slowly approached the 
coffin. A neglige of heavy black silk enveloped her 
small figure, it was short enough to show a pair of ex- 
quisitely shaped feet, whose tread was somewhat uncer- 
tain. Above the brow a profusion of snow-white curls 
was most carefully arranged, and covered by a black lace 
kerchief which was tied beneath the chin. 

The old lady did not notice the child, who without 
moving gazed breathlessly at the strange vision, but 
stepped towards the bier. At sight of the dead face she 
started back, apparently much shocked, and her left hand 
dropped a bouquet of costly flowers, unconsciously as it 
seemed, upon the breast of the corpse. For one moment 
she hid her face in her handkerchief, but then she laid 


THE OLD MAM' SELLE' S SECRET. 


35 


her right hand in great agitation, as in solemn appeal, 
upon the forehead of the dead man. 

“ Do you know all about it now, Fritz?” she whispered. 
“Yes, you know it all, as your father and mother have 
long known it. I forgave you, Fritz. I always forgave 
you. You never knew what injustice you were doing! 
Good night — good night 1” 

She pressed the waxen hand of the dead tenderly be- 
tween both her own — left the side of the coffin, and was 
about leaving the hall as noiselessly as she had entered 
it, when the door of the sitting-room opened, and Madame 
came out. Her face looked whiter than marble beneath 
the black crape cap which surmounted it, but her features 
were more immovable than ever: no trace of tears could 
be found in those eyes. She held a thick wreath of flow- 
ers in her hand, and was evidently about to lay them as 
‘love’s last gift’ upon the coffin. Her astonished gaze 
met that of the old lady. Both sto'od for a moment as if 
rooted to the spot, but an evil fire began to glow in the 
widow’s eyes, her upper lip curled a little, showing one 
of her white teeth — there was something indescribably 
malignant in her expression. The features of the old 
lady also betrayed deep emotion, she seemed struggling 
against an almost invincible repugnance, but overcoming 
it at last, with a gentle, tearful glance at the dead man, 
she held out her right hand to Frau Hellwig. 

“What do you wish here, aunt?” asked the widow, 
coldly, entirely disregarding the little lady’s gesture. 

“To give him my blessing!” was the gentle reply. 

“The blessing of an infidel can have no effect.” 

“ God hears it. In His infinite love He regards, not 
the empty form, but the prayer of the sincere heart.” 

“And of a soul laden with sin,” concluded Frau Hell 
wig, with biting scorn. 


3G 


TEE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


The old lady drew up her slender little figure. 

“Judge not!” she began, and raised her forefinger 
threateningly — “but no” — she interrupted herself with 
touching gentleness, and glanced towards the dead man 
— “not one word more shall disturb your holy rest. 
Farewell, Fritz!” 

She went slowly out into the court-yard and vanished 
behind a door which Felicitas had always before found 
locked. 

“Well, that was bold enough of the old Mam’selle,” 
muttered Frederika, who had seen all from her kitchen 
door. 

Frau Hell wig shrugged her shoulders and laid the 
wreath at the feet of the corpse. She was not yet mis- 
tress of her emotion. 

Impossible as it was for the features of this woman to 
express gentleness and tenderness, immovable as they ap- 
peared in their iron placidity, they could be wonderfully 
animated by hate and contempt. Whoever beheld the evil 
smile which at certain moments played about her lips, 
could never again trust in the repose of that face. She 
bent over the departed as if to arrange some fold, and her 
hand brushed rudely aside the little lady’s bouquet, which 
fell from the coffin and rolled upon the floor at Felicitas’ 
feet. 

Three o’clock struck. Several clergymen in full canoni- 
cals entered the hall, the gentlemen came out of the sit- 
ting-room, followed by Nathanael, who held the hand of a 
tall, slender young man. The widow had telegraphed her 
son John, and he had arrived that morning to attend the 
funeral. For a moment little Felicitas forgot her grief, 
aud gazed with the curiosity of childhood at the youth 
who had been his father’s favourite. Was he crying be- 
hind that slender, delicately white hand with which he 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 


31 


covered his eyes at the sight of his dead father ? No, no 
tears flowed, and to a child’s inexperienced eye, there was 
no sign of extraordinary emotion in the serious face except 
in the unusual pallor which overspread it. 

Nathanael stood beside him. He shed many tears, but 
his grief did not prevent him from gently nudging his 
brother and whispering to him, when he discovered Feli- 
citas’ place of concealment. John’s glance followed the 
direction of his brother’s finger. For the first time the 
little girl encountered his eyes, — they were terrible eye3, 
serious, gloomy, without one ray in them of kindly ten- 
derness. In the Bible there was a picture of the evan- 
gelist, ‘the disciple whom Jesus loved,’ a fair, gentle face, 
with almost feminine features, “That is our John on the 
Rhine!” she had always maintained, and her uncle had 
smilingly nodded assent. But they had nothing in com- 
mon, those lovely features, with their frame of light curls, 
and this head with straight, closely-cut hair, and the seri- 
ous, pale, irregular profile. 

“Go away, child, you are in the way here,” was his 
stern command, when he saw that preparations were being 
made to close the coffin. Felicitas, terrified and ashamed, 
left her corner like a culprit, and, unseen by all, slipped 
into her foster-father’s study. 

And now she wept bitterly. She had never been in his 
way! And she seemed to feel his feverish hand stroking 
her hair, and to hear his feeble, kindly voice whisper 
hoarsely, as it had done so often : “Come, Fay, my child, 
I love so much to have you with me.” 

But, hark ! what were they hammering without there ? 
The sound rang harshly through the high rooms, where 
no one even whispered loudly. Felicitas stole to the green 
curtain, pushed it aside, and looked out into the hall. 
Horrible! Her uncle’s form had vanished! — that black, 

4 


88 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


wooden cover was laid above bis dear face, and would 
keep him always lying stretched out so still ! If be only 
lifted his hand a little he would strike it against the hard 
board ! And that man was still hammering at the cover, 
so that the hand within could never lift it, never leave 
that dark, narrow box, where no one could breathe, and 
where it must be so dreadful to be all alone. The child 
shrieked aloud with horror. 

Every eye turned toward her at the window, but Feli- 
citas saw only the large, gray pair, whose gaze had already 
so terrified her. He looked at her reprovingly; she left 
the window, and concealed herself in the heavy folds of 
the huge curtains which divided the room in the middle. 
There she cowered upon the floor, watching the door 
timidly, and expecting that he would certainly appear 
presently and send her angrily away. 

From her hiding-place she did not see how the bearers 
took the coffin upon their shoulders, and how her uncle 
left the house forever. She did not see the long black 
procession that followed the dead body like the last 
shadow at the end of life’s road. At the corner of the 
street a breeze lifted the white satin ribbons which hung 
down from the coffin — was it a farewell greeting from the 
departed to the forsaken child whom a mother’s tender- 
ness had snatched from the slough of her father’s calling, 
only to cast her upon an inhospitable, barren shore ? 


THE OLD MAM* SELLS' S SECRET 


89 


CHAPTER YII. 

♦ 

The mi rmur of voices in the hall was suddenly hushed 
— utter silence ensued. Felicitas heard the house door 
close, but she did not know that the drama in the hall was 
at an end. She did not dare to leave her hiding-place — the 
study — but she sat down in the little arm-chair which her 
uncle had given her at Christmas, and rested her head 
upon her hands, which were crossed upon the table be- 
fore her. Her heart no longer beat so painfully, but her 
head throbbed, and perplexing thoughts filled her childish 
brain. Again she seemed to see the little old lady, whose 
bouquet was lying now neglected upon the stone pave- 
ment of the hall, perhaps trodden into pieces by careless 
feet. This, then, was ‘the old Mam’selle,’ the lonely 
tenant of the upper story of the back buildings of the 
mansion — a perpetual cause of discord to Frederika and 
Heinrich. Frederika maintained that the old Mam’selle 
had a weight upon her conscience — she had been the 
cause of her father’s death. This dreadful story had 
filled little Felicitas with fear and horror, but she disbe- 
lieved it now utterly. What! that little lady, with the 
kind face and eyes full of tears, kill her father ! Heinrich 
was certainly right in always shaking his shock head, 
and sententiously remarking, “There’s another side to 
that story !” 

Many years before, the old Mam’selle had had her apart- 
ments in the main building, but, as Frederika recounted 
with ever-reviving wrath, she would insist upon desecra- 
ting the Sabbath with profane songs and pieces of music. 
In vain had Madame pictured to her the joys of heaven 


40 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


an 3 the pains of hell, — the godless music was contii ued 
until Herr Hellwig acceded to his wife’s importunities, 
and the old Mam’selle was banished to the topmost story, 
just under the roof, of the back building. There she 
could do no harm, said Frederika, for not a note of the 
wicked music could be heard below. Her uncle, Felicitas 
thought, must have been very angry with the old Mam’- 
selle, for he had never spoken of her, and yet she was his 
father’s sister, and looked so like him ; and at the idea of 
this resemblance a longing to go up to the rooms under 
the roof filled the child’s heart, and she would have tried 
now to do so, but the thought of John’s stern face terri- 
fied her — she trembled, and wondered how long the old 
Mam’selle had lived there behind bolts and bars. 

At the end of a long, disused corridor, close to the 
stairs which led up from the lower stories, there was a 
door, and once, when the children were playing there, 
Nathanael had said mysteriously, “Yes, she lives up 
there always 1” and then battering at the door with his 
fists, had cried out, “Old witch, up there under the roof, 
come downl” rushing down stairs afterward with terri- 
fied haste. Ah, how Felicitas’ heart had throbbed with 
terror 1 She had expected every moment that a horrible 
old woman would dart out upon her, knife in hand, and 
seize her by the hair. 

Outside, the sun was setting. His last golden rays 
were gilding the cross upon the gable of the town-hall 
opposite, and the tall clock in the corner of the room 
struck five just as slowly and clearly as it had struck 
three two hours before, when its former possessor, whose 
gentle hands had so regularly wound it up, had been car- 
ried out of his house never to return. 

Thus far all bad been quiet through the house, but t'be 
door of the sitting-room now opened, and a firm, hard tread 


THE OLD HAM' SELLERS SECRET 


41 


was heard upon the floor. Felicitas shrunk back into thu 
curtain, for Frau Hellwig was approaching her husband’s 
study. This seemed strange enough to the child, who 
never during her uncle’s lifetime had known Madame to 
cross this threshold. She entered with unusual haste* 
turned the key in the lock behind her, and stood still for 
a moment in the middle of the room. There was an ex- 
pression of unutterable triumph in the look that she cast 
around the apartment from which she had for so long 
banished herself. 

Above Hellwig’s study-table hung two finely painted 
portraits in oil, a gentleman and a lady. The latter, 
whose haughty features were nevertheless brilliant with 
gayety and wit, was dressed after that hideous old fashion 
which strove to reproduce the costume of the Greeks. 
The short- waisted white satin dress was made yet shorter 
in the waist by a broad gold-embroidered girdle, and the 
almost too luxuriant beauty of the neck and arms was 
barely covered, and harmonized but ill with the simple 
bouquet of modest violets worn at the girdle. This was 
Hellwig’s mother. 

Before this picture the widow now stood for a moment 
gazing at it. Then she mounted upon a chair, took the 
picture down from the place where it had hung undis- 
turbed for so many years, and carefully, without any 
needless noise, drove a new nail into the wall just between 
the two old ones, and upon this nail she hung the male 
portrait, Hellwig’s father. He now looked down alone, 
while the widow left the room with the other picture in 
her arms. Felicitas listened attentively, and heard her 
pass through the hall and ascend the first flight of stairs, 
then the second and third, — she must have gone into the 
garret. 

She had not quite closed the door behind her, aud be* 

4 * 


42 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET 


fore the sound of her footsteps had died away, Heinrich’s 
honest face appeared at the crack. 

“Yes, indeed, Frederika!” he said, in a smothered and 
yet terrified tone of voice, “it really was old Frau Hell- 
wig’s picture!” 

The old cook flung the door open and looked in: 

“ Oh, good Heavens ! ’tis the fact!” she cried, clasping 
her hands ; “ gracious Powers ! if the proud old Frau could 
see that, she would turn in her coffin, and the blessed old 
master too. But then she was horribly dressed, with her 
neck so bare, — enough to make any good Christian blush.” 

“Do you think so?” rejoined Heinrich, winking slyly. 
“Let me tell you something, Frederika,” he continued, 
counting off the fingers of his right hand upon his left 
thumb, “in the first place, old Frau Hell wig could not 
endure to have her son marry our Madame, and Madame 
will never forget that, — in the second place, the old lady 
was bright and gay, and liked balls and fetes, — and in the 
third place, she once called our Madame ‘a heartless 
devotee.’ What do you say to that?” 

While Heinrich was talking, Felicitas came out of her 
hiding-place. The child felt, instinctively, that the rough 
but thoroughly good-hearted old servant was now her 
only friend. He loved her very dearly, and it was princi- 
pally to his watchful care that she owed her happy igno- 
rance of her own antecedents. 

“Ah, my little Fay, is that you?” he said kindly, and 
took the little hand in his hard palm; “ I have been look- 
ing for you everywhere. Come with me to the servants’ 
room, — nobody wants you here now, poor thing i If the 
old pictures must go, ’twill not be long before ” 

He sighed, and closed the door. Frederika had already 
returned to her kitchen, for Madame was heard des ending 
the stairs. 


THE OLD MAM' SELLE'S SECRET. 


43 


Felicitas looked timidly around the hall, — it wa3 empty. 
The floor where the coffin had been was strewn with 
crushed flowers and leaves. 

“ Where is uncle ?” she asked, in a whisper, as Hein- 
rich led her toward the servants’ room. 

“ Oh, they have taken him away, but you know, child, 
he is in heaven now, and he is much happier there than 
here on the earth,” said Heinrich, sorrowfully. 

He took down his cap from a peg, and went out to per- 
form some errand in the town. 

In the servants’ room it was already almost dark, and 
when Heinrich left her, Felicitas kneeled upon the narrow, 
wooden bench, which was placed beneath the small grated 
window, and looked up into the little piece of sky, which 
was all that could be seen among the gables of the op- 
posite houses in the narrow street at the back of the 
servants’ room : “ Up there ? — was her uncle there now?” 

She started with sudden terror as Frederika entered 
with the kitchen lamp. The old cook put a plate of bread 
and butter on the table. 

“Come here, child, and eat your supper,” said she. 

The child approached, but did not touch the food. She 
took her slate which Heinrich had brought to her out of 
her uncle’s room, and began to write. But hasty steps 
were heard in the adjoining kitchen, and Nathanael’s yel- 
low head appeared at the open door ; Felicitas trembled, 
for he was always rude to her when they were alone to- 
gether. 

“Ah, here is Miss Fay !” he cried, in the tone that Feli- 
citas dreaded to hear. “ Tell me, you naughty thing, 
where have you been hiding all this time?” 

“I have been in the green room,” she answered, with- 
out looking up. 

“Well, you’d better not try that again,” he said threat* 


THE OLD MAM' SELLE ' S SECRET \ 


44 

eninglv, “you don’t belong there now, mamma says. 
What are you writing there?” 

“My lesson for Herr Richter.” 

“Oh, for Herr Richter!” he repeated, and with a sud- 
den movement of his hand he wiped off everything that 
she had written on the slate. “And do you think mamma 
will be so stupid as to go on paying for expensive private 
lessons for you ? She knows better than that, she says. 
All that is over now. You can go bacx to where you 
came from, and be just what your mother was, and they’ll 
finish you so,” — and he made a gesture as if shooting, 
and cried ‘bang!’ 

The little girl stared at him with wide open eyes. He 
spoke of her mother, — no one had ever done that before, 
but she could not understand what he said. 

“You do not know my mamma at all,” she said, half 
questioningly, and almost breathlessly. 

“Oh, I know more about her than you do,” he replied; 
and after a pause, during which he looked maliciously at 
her from under his eyebrows, “ I’ll bet you don’t know 
what your father and mother were I” 

The little girl shook her head with lovely innocent 
grace, and her eyes rested upon him with a beseeching 
expression. She knew the boy too well not to ffeel sure 
that what he was about to say would wound her. 

“ They were play-actors,” he cried, with malice in every 
tone. “ Such people, you know, as we saw at the fair, 
they played tricks and turned summersaults, and then 
went round with a plate and begged.” 

The slate fell upon the floor and broke into a hundred 
pieces. Felicitas sprang up wildly and rushed past the 
startled boy into the kitchen. 

“He tells a lie! oh, say he tells a lie, Frederika!” she 
cried slnTly, seizing the old cook by the arm. 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRIT. 


45 


‘‘Well, I can’t exactly say that,” replied Frederika, 
whose hard heart was touched by some little compassion 
at sight of the child’s fearful excitement. “They did not 
beg, ’tis true, but they were play-actors.” 

“And they played very poor tricks,” said Nathanael, 
stepping up to the hearth and staring into Felicitas’ face. 
She was not crying, and looked so bold and wild, with 
such bright sparkling eyes, that he fell into a rage. 

“They did horrible things,” he went on. “Your mo- 
ther tempted God, and can never, never go to heaven, 
mamma says.” 

“She is not dead I” gasped Felicitas. Her pale little 
lips quivered feverishly, and she clutched convulsively 
the old cook’s skirt. 

“Oh, long, long ago, you stupid thing! Papa would 
not tell you. Over there in the town-hall one of the sol- 
diers shot her in one of her tricks.” 

The tortured child uttered a heart-rending shriek. 
Frederika confirmed the boy’s last words with an affirm- 
ative nod. Then he had not lied. 

At this moment Heinrich returned from his errand in 
the town. Nathanael ran out of the room as soon as the 
old servant’s thickset form appeared upon the threshold. 
Deceitful natures always shun the sight of an honest face. 
The cook’s conscience too pricked her, and she busied her- 
self with her pots and pans. 

Felicitas cried no more aloud. With her arms crossed 
against the wall, and her forehead supported upon them, 
she struggled to suppress her sobs. 

The piercing shriek of the child had reached Heinrich’s 
ears. He saw Nathanael vanishing from the room, and 
knew that some cruelty had been practised here. With- 
out saying a word, he drew the little girl away from the 
wall and lifted up her face, — it was distorted with agony. 


46 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 


At sight of him the child broke into loud weeping, sob* 
bing out: “They have shot my dear mother — my dear, 
beautiful mamma!” 

Heinrich’s broad, good-humoured face grew pale with 
anger — with difficulty he suppressed an oath. 

“ Who told you that?” he asked, looking menacingly at 
Frederika. 

The child was silent, and the old cook began to tell how 
it had happened, while she poked the fire, basted her roast, 
and did a variety of unnecessary things that she might 
avoid looking Heinrich in the face. 

“I think myself that Nathanael might have kept it to 
himself for this one day,” she concluded; “to-morrow 
Madame takes her in charge, and I warrant you she’ll 
not be handled with gloves.” 

Heinrich led Felicitas back to the servants’ room, seated 
her upon the wooden bench, and did his best to soothe 
and comfort her after his rough fashion. He told her as 
gently as he could of the occurrence at the town-hall, 
and concluded by saying that her dear mamma, who 
everybody said looked just like an angel before she died, 
must surely be a real angel now in heaven, and could 
look down and see her little Fay all the time. And then 
he tenderly stroked the head of the little girl, who was 
weeping again convulsively. 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET 


47 


CHAPTER Y III. 

The next morning the church bells rung solemnly n 
the town. Crowds of worshippers thronged the narrc vv 
street at the back of the Hell wig mansion, on their wiy 
to the church on the hill. Silks and velvets, with holi- 
day dresses of less pretentious fabric, rustled through the 
church doors, worn not only in honour of the place, but 
with an eye to the admiration of the neighbour whom 
we are commanded to love. 

A little figure shrouded in black slipped out of the 
large house at the corner of the market-square. No one 
would have recognized the graceful form of the little 
Felicitas under the thick coarse shawl, which completely 
enveloped her from top to toe, and was pinned together 
with a large pin under her chin. Erederika had wrapped 
her in it, with many praises of Madame’s kindness in 
giving her such a beautiful mourning garment, and then, 
opening the street door, had dismissed the child with re- 
peated injunctions not to go to the family pew as usual — 
her place for the future was to be upon the benches with 
the parish school children. 

Felicitas took her hymn-book under her arm and turned 
Up the narrow street. She hastened on at first ; but in 
front of her there walked with solemn measured steps, 
three figures, at sight of whom she involuntarily lingered 
and held back. Yes, it was Madame between her two 
sons, and every one, as she passed, greeted her reverently. 
’Tis true that no genial expression was ever to be seen 
upon that stern face, that to the poor she was a hard task 


4 * 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


mistress and judge, that the little boy at her side abused 
every beggar child who asked for charity at her door, told 
falsehoods, and then denied them solemnly, but all that 
was of no consequence. They were going to church, 
where they would kneel praying behind the curtains of 
the family pew, and God would love them and one day 
receive them into his beautiful heaven, for they were no 
play-actors. 

The three figures vanished within the church. The 
child’s anxious glance followed them, and then she flew 
swiftly past all the open doors from which the tones of 
the organ were already rolling, and through which she 
had a glimpse of the dim religious light within, and of 
the crowds of worshippers. 

The notes of the organ appealed in vain to the wounded, 
defiant, childish heart that hurried past. She would not 
pray to God — he did not love her poor murdered mother, 
and would not suffer her to enter his wide blue heaven ; 
she was lying there lonely in the grave-yard far away, — 
her child would go to her. 

Felicitas turned into another street yet steeper than 
the one at the back of the house. Then came the ugly 
gate of the town flanked by the still uglier tower, but 
through the high arch of the gate the green fields beyond 
were lovely to behold, and the magnificent avenues of 
lindens that surrounded the town contrasted with its 
blackened walls like a green myrtle crown upon the gray 
brows of age. How solemn and still it was up here! 
The child started at the sound of her own steps upon the 
gravel — she was treading in forbidden paths* But she 
hurried on, and at last stood, out of breath, at the en- 
trance of the grave-yard. 

The little girl had never before visited this quiet place. 
She had never seen before those square lots, those grassy 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' £ SECRET. 


49 


mounds with their white head-stones, beneath which the 
turmoil and hurry of life were stilled forever. 

Above the iron grating of the gate two elder bushes 
stretched forth their dark branches laden with black shin- 
ing berries, and on one side were seen the gray walls of 
an old church that looked gloomy enough, but then away 
on the other side stretched a green lawn planted with 
flowers and shrubs, basking in the golden autumn sun- 
light. 

“ Whom have you come to see, little one ?” asked a 
man in his shirt sleeves, who was leaning against the 
door of the small house inside, where the sexton kept his 
tools, and blowing blue clouds of smoke from his pipe 
into the clear air. 

“ My mamma,” replied Felicitas quickly, looking search- 
ingly across to the flower-strewn lawn. 

“Oh — is she here, who was she?” 

“She was a player’s wife.” 

“ Oh, yes, she was killed in the town-hall five years ago. 
There she lies, over there in the corner by the church.” 

And now the poor little neglected thing was standing 
beside the narrow mound that covered the object of all 
her longing, loving, childish dreams. Every grave around 
was gay with flowers, — upon most of them the asters 
were so thick that it seemed as though God had rained 
down his sparkling stars from heaven upon them, — but 
the small strip at the child’s feet was bare and desolate, 
only overgrown with weeds and knot-grass. Careless 
feet had made a pathway directly across it, and the plain 
square head-stone had sunk so deep into the neglected 
earth that the black letters upon it, 'Meta d’Orlowska,’ 
were only just above the surface of the ground. By this 
stone Felicitas knelt down and pressed her little hands 
upon the bare mound. Earth — nothing but earth. This 
D 5 


50 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


hea*y, senseless mass was resting upon the tender face, 
the lovely form in its dress of shining white satin, and 
the cold lily-white hands filled with flowers. And now 
the child knew that her mother had not been only 
sleeping. 

“Dear mamma,” she whispered, “you cannot see me, 
but I am here beside you; and although God does not 
love you, — he has not given you a single flower, — and 
no one cares for you, I love you dearly, and will always 
come to you. I love no one but you, dear mamma, not 
even God, who is so harsh and unkind to you!” 

This was the child’s first prayer at her outcast mother’s 
grave. A light breeze rustled past, gentle and cooling 
as the soothing hand of a mother laid upon the feverish 
forehead of her child. The asters waved their starry 
flowers, there was a low rustle among the weeds and 
grass upon the grave, and above all stretched the trans- 
parent heaven in unclouded splendour, that eternal, 
changeless heaven which man’s superstition converts 
into a stormy scene of earthly passions. 

When, long after, Felicitas returned to the house in 
the Square — the child did not know how long she had 
been sitting dreaming in the large quiet grave-yard — she 
found the street door ajar. She slipped into the hall, but 
stood still, terrified in a corner, for the door of her uncle’s 
room was half open, and the tones of John’s voice were 
heard as he walked up and down there with steady 
steps. 

Wild and defiant as was the mood which had possessed 
the child since the previous evening, her terror of that 
unmoved, cruel voice, and those stern, cold eyes, was 
stronger still. She could not pass the open door — her 
little feet seemed rooted to the stones of the hall. 

“I think you are perfectly right, mother,” John was 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 


51 


just saying, “this troublesome little child woula be much 
bettor given over to the training of some honest me- 
chanic’s wife. But this unfinished letter of my father’s 
is just as binding upon me as his witnessed will would 
have been. He once said that the child should never 
leave his house, unless sent for by her father, and with 
these words — ‘ I wish to leave the child unconditionally 
to your care,’ he constitutes me irrevocably the executor 
of his will. It does not become me to criticise my father’s 
actions, but if he had only known how utterly odious to 
me is the class of people to which this child by birth be- 
longs, he would, I think, have spared me this guardianship. ” 

“You cannot know what you require of me, John,” 
rejoined the widow, in a tone of great vexation. “ I have 
endured the presence in my house of this outcast, God- 
forsaken creature, for five long years. I cannot do it any 
longer 1” 

“ Then nothing remains for us but an appeal, through 
the papers, to the child’s father.” 

“You may appeal long enough 1” replied Frau Hell- 
wig, with a short, scornful laugh. “He is thankful to 
be rid of such a burden 1 Hr. Boehm tells me that, as far 
as he knows, the man wrote once from Hamburg, and 
never again.” 

“And as a good Christian you could not consent, mother, 
to have the child go back where her soul would be lost 
forever?” 

“It is already lostl” 

“No, mother, although, I grant you, that blood must 
bring with it an utter levity of mind, still I have great 
faith in the effect of education.” 

“Do you intend then that we shall go on paying money 
for a creature who has no earthly claim upon us? She is 
taking lessons in French and drawing, and ” 


52 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


“Of course not, that never occurred to me,” her son 
interrupted her — and for the first time the monotone of 
his voice was enlivened by some intonation. “ That never 
occurred to me,” he repeated ; “ I have no sympathy with 
these modern ideas of the education of women. In a little 
while we shall search in vain for women like yourself, 
of true Christian mind, fulfilling their duties faithfully, 
and never overstepping the bounds of feminine propriety. 
No, let all that be at an end; bring up the child well and 
strictly, to be what she must be at some future day, a 
servant. I place the responsibility in your hands with 
confidence, mother. With your decision of character, 
your Christian conscientiousness ” 

Here the door was suddenly flung wide open, and Na- 
thanael, who had evidently wearied of the conversation, 
ran out into the hall. Felicitas shrunk back against the 
wall, but he saw her, and darted upon her like a hawk 
upon its prey. 

“Yes, hide yourself! that will do you no good!” he 
cried, and grasped her wrist so roughly in dragging her 
forward, that she cried out. “ Come with me this instant, 
and tell mamma the text of the sermon! I’ll bet you can’t 
do it! You were not upon the parish school benches. I 
looked for you. And how you look! Mamma, just see 
her dress!” 

With these words, he drew the struggling girl to the 
door. 

“Come in, child !” ordered John, who stood in the mid- 
dle of the room with his father’s letter yet in his hand. 

Felicitas timidly crossed the threshold. She looked up 
for one moment at the tall, slender figure before her. There 
was not a speck of dust upon his well-fitting black dress 
— not a hair out of place above the smooth forehead, 
across which he passed his white hand continually. 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


53 


Everything about him was fastidiously neat. He looked 
with a kind of disgust at the skirt of the child’s dress. 

“Where did that come from?” he asked, pointing to 
the spot which had attracted his glance. 

The little girl looked down shyly, — it was indeed a 
sorry sight. The grass and earth in the grave-yard had 
been wet with dew, and when she threw herself down 
beside her dead mother she had not thought of the traces 
which must be left upon her black dress .... She stood 
silent, with downcast eyes. 

“How, no answer? You look like guilt itself. You 
were not in church, then?” 

“No,” said the child, frankly. 

“And where were you?” 

She was silent. She would rather be beaten to death 
than speak her dead mother’s name to these ears. 

“I’ll tell you, John,” replied Nathanael, “she has been 
out in our garden eating fruit. That’s what she’s always 
doing.” 

Felicitas glanced at him with flashing eyes, but did not 
open her lips. 

“Answer,” said John; “is Nathanael right?” 

“No, he tells an untruth, as he always does,” the child 
replied firmly. 

John here stretched out his arm quietly, and restrained 
Nathanael, who was about to rush at his accuser. 

“Do not touch her, Nathanael,” said Frau Hellwig to 
the boy. She had hitherto been sitting silently by the 
window in her husband’s arm-chair. Now she arose. 
Oh, what a shadow her imposing figure threw upon the 
room I 

“You will believe me, John,” she turned to her son, 
“when I assure you that Nathanael never tells untruths. 
He is a good boy — living as few children do, in the fear 
5 * 


54 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


of the Lord. I ha^e taught and trained him myself — 
which will suffice for you. This wretched creature will 
sow discord between brothers as she has already done 
between their parents. Is it not unpardonable that she 
has spent the time which should have been devoted to 
church somewhere else — wherever that may be.” 

Her eyes measured the child coldly from head to foot. 

“Where is the new shawd that was given to you this 
morning?” she asked suddenly. 

Felicitas put up her hands to her neck — it was gone ; 
it must have been left in the grave-yard! Now she felt 
guilty indeed, guilty of great carelessness. Deeply 
ashamed, her downcast eyes filled with tears, and an 
entreaty for forgiveness hovered upon her lips. 

“Well, what do you think of her now, John?” asked 
Frau Hellwig, in a cutting tone. “I gave her the shawl 
a few hours ago, and you can see by her face that it is 
already lost. I should like to know how much her ward- 
robe cost your father yearly. Give her up, I say. It is 
time and trouble lost. You can never root out what she 
has inherited from a frivolous, sinful mother.” 

At this moment a sudden change took place in the 
child’s face and form. A deep scarlet flush overspread 
cheek, brow, and neck to the edge of the coarse black 
woollen dress. Her dark eyes still glistening with re- 
pentant tears flashed defiance at Madame. That timid 
fear of her which had burdened the childish heart and 
hushed the childish lips for five years vanished. Every- 
thing which since the day before had excited her young 
nerves to the utmost, rushed upon her mind with start- 
ling distinctness. She was beside herself. 

“Do not speak of my poor mother! I will not suffer 
it!” she cried, with almost a shriek in her usually gentle 
voice. “She never harmed you! We should not speak 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


55 


evil of the dead ; my uncle always told me that, for they 
cannot defend themselves. But you do it, and it is 
wicked, very wicked!” 

“Look at the little fury, John,” said Frau Hellwig, 
contemptuously. “This is the result of your father’s 
ideas of education. There stands the ‘fairy-like little 
creature,’ as he calls her in his letter.” 

“She is right in defending her mother,” said John, in 
an undertone, with a thoughtful glance, “but her manner 
of doing it is dreadful. How dare you speak so disre- 
spectfully to this lady?” he turned to Felicitas, and a 
slight blush suffused his pale cheeks. “Do you not 
know that you must starve if she does not feed you, and 
that your pillow "would be the stones in the street if she 
should turn you out of her house?” 

“I do not want her food!” cried the child. “She is a 
wicked, wicked woman! She has terrible eyes! I will 
not stay here in your house where they tell untruths, 
and where I am afraid of being ill treated. I would 
rather go under the ground to my mother; I would 
rather starve- ” 

She could say no more, for John had seized her arm in 
the clasp of his iron fingers, and shook her several times 
violently. 

“Come to your senses, you wicked child!” he cried. 
“Fie! a girl, and so savage! With all your hereditary 
levity and wilfulness is there this ungovernable violence 
of temper ? I see clearly how much has been neglected 
here,” he said to his mother, “but under your strict dis- 
cipline, mother, all will soon be altered.” 

He still held the child’s arm roughly, and led her to 
the servants’ room. 

“From to-day you must obey me. I am master here, 
remember that,” he said sternly; “and even when I am 


56 


THE OLD MAM SELLERS SECRET 


far away I shall know how to punish you whenever 1 
hear from my mother that you have not been submissive 
and obedient. For your naughty conduct to-day you 
must stay in the house for a long time, especially since 
you make such a bad use of liberty. You must not visit 
the garden without express permission from my mother, 
nor must you go into the street at all, except to and from 
the parish school, which you will now attend. You will 
take your meals here in the servants’ room, and stay here 
all the time until you learn to conduct yourself becom- 
ingly.” 

The little girl silently turned her face away from him, 
and he left the room. 


CHAPTER IX. 

In the afternoon the Hellwig family drank their coffee 
in their garden outside the town. Frederika put on her 
gay Sunday shawl and her wadded black silk hood, and 
went first to church and then to visit a ‘cousin of hers.’ 
Heinrich and Felicitas were left alone in the large, quiet 
house. The former had gone an hour before, without 
saying a word, to the grave-yard and brought home the 
unfortunate shawl, which was now lying neatly brushed 
and folded in the drawer. 

The honest fellow had heard and partly seen the 
morning’s occurrences, and had been strongly tempted 
to rush in and shake the son of the house with his 
brawny arms just as the latter had shaken the tender 
form of the rebellious child. Now he was sitting in the 
kitrhen cutting and carving a head upon his cane, and 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


57 


whistling most unmelodiously. His heart was not in 
his work, — he was continually casting anxious, stolen 
glances at the silent child. That could not be the little 
Felicitas. She sat there like a caged bird, but a bird un- 
tamed and full of inextinguishable anger against the 
hands that had captured it. Upon her knees lay Robin- 
son Crusoe, which Heinrich had brought her from Na- 
thanael’s book-shelves, but she had not opened it. Robin- 
son had a happy time of it upon his lonely island, for 
there were no wicked people there to call his mother 
frivolous and sinful. The sparkling sunlight shone all 
around him, upon the waving palms and grassy plains, 
— here God’s light seemed almost twilight, coming 
through the narrow grated windows, and there was no 
green leaf to be seen in the street outside, or anywhere 
in the house. Oh, yes! there were the stiff orange-trees 
in the hall, and a solitary asclepias plant in Frau Hell- 
wig’s room, but Felicitas had never loved those flowers 
which looked as if moulded in porcelain, while the thick 
wax-like leaves did not stir in any breeze. What could 
be lovelier than the rustling murmur of the leaves in the 
garden outside the town when the winds kissed them! 

Suddenly the child started up. Up-stairs in the garret, 
at the top of the house she could look across the roofs of 
the houses into the open country. There the sun was 
shining — like a little shadow she flitted swiftly up the 
winding stone staircase. 

The old house had fallen from its once high estate. It 
had formerly been a knightly abode. There was still 
something very aristocratic in its appearance, although it 
did not vie with the old castles which seem to claim close 
kindred with the sky ; yet there was an imposing air about 
the bow-windows, and in especial about the huge chim- 
neys, whose size was a necessity of those old times when 


58 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


deer wer j roasted whole upon the wide kitchen hearth. 
The blue; blood which had coursed through the veins of 
the old knightly lords of the mansion was long since 
dried, and many years before had, like the old house, 
greatly degenerated. 

The front of the house which looked upon the Square 
had been somewhat altered and modernized; but the back 
buildings, which consisted of three enormous wings, were 
yet standing precisely as the original architect had left 
them. There were still long echoing corridors with lofty 
ceilings and worn floors, where a glimmering twilight 
reigned even at noonday — the very places where of right 
some legendary ancestress in gray robes with a pale face 
and shadowy folded hands should wander noiselessly. 
One came suddenly and unexpectedly upon narrow creak- 
ing stairs which led down to mysterious doors, locked 
and bolted, or to some retired corner at the end of a long 
corridor, where through the little leaded panes of the 
solitary window pale gleams of light fell upon the crum- 
bling tiles of the floor. The dust which fell upon your 
head was historic, — it had had part centuries ago in the 
framework of some balcony or in the then fresh plaster, 
while the blue blood was still coursing through living 
veins. 

Wherever a place could be found for it, the builder had 
carved in stone the crest of the original possessor of the 
mansion, a Lord of Hirschsprung (Stag’s leap). Upon 
the keystones of the arched doors and windows — yes, 
often upon the tiles in the floor — the powerful stag 
(Hirsch) was represented with his forelegs uplifted in 
the act of leaping across some deep abyss. 

In one of the state chambers of the front mansion the 
portraits of the old knight and his dame were painted 
ab* vre the door, stiff stately figures in armour and ruff 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


59 


The haughty knight still looked proudly down upon a 
world where his forgotten dust had long since mingled 
with its mother-earth, and where his title-deeds, with 
their high-sounding ‘forevers,’ had long been destroyed. 

Felicitas stood at the top of the steep flight of stairs 
gazing into a half-open door which had never, that she 
could remember, been unlocked before. What an unusual 
confusion the fulfilment of her revengeful purpose must 
have created in Madame’s mind, since it had caused her 
to forget locks and bolts! Through this door you looked 
into a long corridor, leading over the back buildings, and 
into which several other doors opened. One of these 
stood open, and revealed a room filled with all sorts of 
old lumber, and lighted by a high dormer window. It 
was crowded with antique furniture, and in an old-fash- 
ioned arm-chair, on one side was placed the banished por- 
trait of the old ‘Frau.’ It was not even turned toward a 
protecting wall. Dust and spiders might wreak their 
worst upon the face which the artist had completed in 
firm faith that it would remain an object of veneration for 
centuries to children’s children. 

The large, wide-open eyes had something terrible in 
them, now that the child saw them closely, — she turned 
away; but ah, how her little heart beat, and how the 
blood rushed to her head! — that trunk in the corner, 
covered with sealskin — how well little Felicitas knew 
that! Shyly, with bated breath she lifted the cover; on 
top lay the light-blue dress with the delicate embroidery 
upon the skirt and sleeves. Ah, yes! Frederika had 
taken it off of her one evening, and it had vanished, and 
she had worn these ugly dark dresses ever since. 

The little hands plunged deeper and deeper into the 
trunk. Ah, how many things they found, and how the 
childish heart thrilled at sight of them ! All deli- 


60 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


cate garments, beautiful enough to have clothed a littl* 
princess, — her dead mother had had them all in her hands. 
Felicitas remembered with painful distinctness how soft 
had been the touch of her mother’s hand while she dressed 
her. Ah, there was the little striped cat that had once 
been the child’s greatest pride. It was embroidered upon 
a small pouch. But stay, there was something inside — 
no toy, as the child at first supposed, but a little agate 
seal set in silver, and engraved upon it was the same 
leaping stag that was to be found carved everywhere 
upon the Hellwig house. Beneath the crest were finely 
cut the letters y, gjL That must have belonged to 
her mamma, and the child’s little fingers had stolen it 
from her desk. 

A flood of awakened memories, across which now and 
then there flashed a ray of riper comprehension, over- 
flowed the mind of the little girl. Now she understood 
the moments when, starting from sleep, she would find 
her father and mother standing by her bedside — he in a 
gay velvet mantle, and she with her lovely hair hanging 
loose about her — and then, on that evening, when her 
mother lay so still with closed eyes, and did not, as 
always before, snatch her little Fay to her bosom — she 
had been shot that night — her dear beautiful mamma! 

One by one the recovered treasures were stroked and 
fondled and laid carefully back in the trunk; and when 
the lid was shut again, the little girl put her arms around 
it, and laid her head down upon it — they were old com- 
rades, they two, who belonged together in a world which 
had not even a foothold of a home for the player’s child. 
And the defiant little face grew gentle and happy as it 
iay motionless with closed eyes upon the moth-eaten lid 
of the trunk. 

Through the windows warm air breathed a deli- 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


61 


cious odour into the dark corner where she lay. How 
could this delightful fragrance, which must come from 
whole beds of mignonette, mount so high into the air? 
Amd what sounds were those that now floated into the 
room ? Felicitas opened her eyes, and sat up listening. 
That could not be the organ from the neighbouring 
church. Service had long been over. A more cultivated 
ear than the child’s, would never have suspected that 
those tones proceeded from an organ. Some one was 
playing one of Mozart’s overtures upon the piano, in a 
most masterly manner. Felicitas pushed an old table 
under the window, mounted it, and looked out. Ah, 
what a sight! There was indeed no view of the distant 
fields, which she had so longed for ; four different sloping 
roofs formed a square before her eyes, and shut out any 
distant prospect; but the opposite roof of the four, which 
was much the highest, presented a spectacle to the won- 
dering childish eyes, which transcended even the fairy 
tales in which she so delighted. 

Upon the wide and gentle incline of this roof, instead 
of the gray mossy shingles which covered the others, 
was blooming a lovely flower garden ; asters and dahlias 
were waving their beautiful flowers there, as secure as 
were their sisters in the garden outside of the town. As 
far as human steps could go with safety from the bal- 
cony, which projected from near the upper edge of tho 
roof, the lovely realm of flowers extended, and where it 
ceased was stretched a lattice, upon which vines of every 
kind were climbing, showing every shade of crimson in 
their autumn foliage, like a gay scarf around the lovely 
shoulders of a beautiful woman. Wild grape-vines 
wreathed and twisted themselves even beyond the lat- 
tice, and stretched their spiral tendrils and shining leaves 
far across to the neighbouring roofs. The gallery ex- 

6 


62 


TEE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


tended along the whole length of the roof, and hung there 
light and graceful, as though a breeze might stir it; and 
yet upon the broad railing around it were placed large 
boxes full of earth, in which were growing beds of mig- 
nonette, and hundreds of monthly rose-bushes waved 
their tender flowers. 

A tolerably stout white garden-chair, beside a little 
round table, upon which stood a delicate coffee-service of 
porcelain, proved unmistakably that some creature of flesh 
and blood had its home here, although the child still sus- 
pected that the rooms, which opened by a glass door into 
the gallery, must be the abode of the fairy of the flowers. 
No stones of the wall could be seen, it was covered with 
thick Scottish ivy, mingled with a creeping vine, the heavy 
flower cups and orange-velvet leaves of which dangled 
out above the glass door which was slightly ajar, and 
whence issued the sounds which had attracted the child 
to the window. One glance down into the space encircled 
by the four buildings, and the child began to comprehend 
where she was. It was the poultry-yard. Felicitas had 
never entered it ; for Frederika, for fear lest one of its 
winged tenants should stray into her kitchen, or perhaps 
even into the hall, always locked it, and kept the key 
in her pocket. How often had the old cook come angrily 
into her kitchen, saying to Heinrich, “ The old woman 
is watering her stupid grass again, and the gutters are all 
overflowing 1” These thousand lovely flowers, then, were 
the * stupid grass,’ and she who loved and cherished them, 
was — the old Mam’selle, who was again ‘ desecrating the 
Sabbath with her gay music.’ 

These thoughts were scarcely awakened in the child’s 
mind, before her little feet were upon the window-sill. 
With the elasticity of childhood, the grief and trouble, 
that had so burdened her heart a few hours before were 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


63 


all Ajrgotten for the moment. She could climb like a 
sqwrel. To walk down this sloping roof was an insig- 
nificant feat, and the gutters at the edges made quite a 
broad path for her, although they were slimy and mossy, 
and in the corners were crumbling away somewhat. But 
then they would not really break down for many years to 
come, and were not to compare with the slender rope 
upon wJtuch Felicitas had seen little girls, smaller than 
she, dancing at fairs. She stepped out of the window and 
reached trie gutter at the bottom of the slope in a mo- 
ment. It leaked and cracked beneath her tread, but 
she went bi«vely on, — no hold for her upon her right 
hand, and upon her left a yawning precipice, four stories 
deep, — if her mother’s eyes had seen her I but all went 
admirably. 

A scramble ^p the opposite roof, a leap over the railing, 
and the child „tood with glowing cheeks and sparkling 
eyes among the flowers, looking out over the other roofs 
into the broad open country, upon which the purple shades 
of evening were just beginning to fall. 

And then she turned and looked shyly through the 
glass door, which perhaps had never before mirrored a 
childish face. Did the ivy grow through the roof then, 
and clothe the walls of the spacious room? Scarcely any 
of the wall within could be seen through the green of the 
climbing vines that were planted in large boxes around 
it. Here and there brackets projected from among the 
green, upon which were placed marble busts, grave earn- 
est faces, which contrasted strangely with the twisting 
vines that wreathed their white brows and sometimes 
even crossed their breasts, hanging down in luxuriant 
beauty before the two high windows, from which could 
be seen, across the surrounding roofs, a lovely landscape 
— the dark autumn forest clothing the mountain on the 


<54 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


one hand, and the open fields stretching away on the 
other. 

Between the windows a large piano was placed. The 
old Mam’selle, dressed just as she had been the day be* 
fore, sat at it, her delicate fingers touching the keys firmly, 
and with expression. Her face was somewhat different, 
for she wore spectacles, and there was a flush upon the 
cheeks, which had the day before been so pale. 

Little Felicitas softly entered and stood still in the arch 
of the doorway. Was the old lady conscious of a human 
presence ? or did she hear th° rustle of the child’s foot- 
step ? She suddenly broke off in the midst of a brilliant 
phrase, and turning, the large eyes gazed over the spec- 
tacles at the intruder. She started, is if from an electric 
shock, and a low cry escaped her lips ; then with trembling 
hand she removed the spectacles and arose, supporting 
herself upon the instrument. 

“ How did you come here, my child ?” she asked at last, 
in a trembling voice which terror could not make harsh 
or ungentle. 

“Over the roofs,” replied the little girl in confusion, 
pointing across the court-yard. 

“Over the roofs! that is impossible ! Come here and 
show me how you came.” She took the child’s hand and 
led her out upon the gallfery. Felicitas pointed to the 
dormer window, and showed how she had run along the 
gutters. The old lady put her hands before her eyes with 
horror. 

“Ah, don’t be frightened !” said Felicitas, in her sweet 
innocent voice. “I came really very easily, — I can climb 
like a boy, and Hr. Boehm says I am like a bunch of 
feathers with no bones.” 

The old Mam’selle took her hands from her face and 
smiled; the gentle smile discovered two rows of very 


THE OLD MAM’SELLE'S SECRET. 


65 


beautiful white teeth. She led Felicitas back into the 
room and sat down in an arm-chair. 

“I see you must be the little Fay,” she said, taking 
Felicitas upon her lap. “I know you, although you did 
not fly in here upon gauzy wings. Your old friend Hein- 
rich told me all about you to-day.” 

At the mention of Heinrich the whole weight of woe 
again fell upon the child’s heart. As in the morning, a 
deep blush suffused her cheeks, and anger and grief, as 
upon the night before, changed the whole expression of 
the childish face. The sudden change did not escape the 
old Mam’selle, — she took the little girl’s face caressingly 
between her hands and held it up. 

“ Think, little daughter,” she continued, “ for many 
years Heinrich has come up to me every Sunday to attend 
to various matters for me. He knows how strictly I 
have forbidden him ever to allude to what may be going 
on in the house, and he has never transgressed my com- 
mands until to-day. Think how dearly he must love 
little Fay, to have been so disobedient.” 

The defiant eyes filled with tears. 

“Yes, he loves me, but no one else cares for me,” she 
said, and her voice broke. 

“No one else!” repeated the old lady, looking lovingly 
into the child’s eyes. “E>on’t*you know that there is One 
who will always love you, even although the whole world 
should turn away from you? The dear God in ” 

“Oh, He does not care for me, because I am a player’s 
child,” interrupted Felicitas with sudden violence. “ Frau 
Jlell wig said this morning that my soul is already lost, 
and they all say that He will not have my poor mamma 
with Him. And I do not love Him at all ! — and I do not 
want to go to Him when I die ! — what should I do with- 
out my dear mamma!” 

E 


6 * 


66 


THE OLD MAM* SELLERS SECRET. 


‘•'Gracious God! what have these people with their 
self-styled Christianity being doing with you, my poor 
child?” 

The old lady rose quickly and opened a side door. To 
the child the room within seemed filled with heavenly 
white clouds, for before the bed, which stood in an al- 
cove, and over the doors and windows were draped white 
muslin curtains. The pale green of the walls was only 
here and there visible among the white drapery. What 
a contrast between this little room, fresh and spotless as 
the thoughts of a pure and healthy mind, and the gloomy 
boudoir in the house below, where Frau Hellwig knelt in 
prayer every morning upon a priedieu, upon whose em- 
broidered cushion space was found for the representa- 
tion of all the cruel symbols of the Passion, but none 
for any emblem of the Love which endured all that 
suffering ! 

Upon a little table beside the bed was a large well- 
worn Bible. The old lady opened it and read aloud with 
much emotion. * Though I speak with the tongues of 
men and of angels, and have not Love,* I am become as 
sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.’ She read on, and 
finished with the words : ‘Love never faileth : but whether 
there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be 
tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, 
it shall vanish away.’ 

“And this love comes from Him — yes, God is love,” 
she said, putting her arm around the child. “Your 
mamma is His child, as we all are His children, and she 
has gone to Him now, for ‘Love never faileth.’ She will 
dwell peacefully above with Him, and when you look up 
at night to His beautiful heaven, with its millions of 


* The German Bible reads l Liebe.’ — Tr. 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET. 


67 


sparkling stars, be sure, dear child, that Eternal Love has 
made no such place as hell ! And now you will love this 
kind Heavenly Father dearly, will you not, my little 
Fay?” 

The child made no reply, but threw her arms passion- 
ately around the neck of her kind comforter, and the hot 
tears gushed from her eyes. 

******* 

Two days afterward a carriage drew up before the Hell- 
wig mansion. The widow entered it with both of her 
sons, whom she was about to accompany as far as the 
next town. John was going to Bonn to study medicine, 
and Nathanael was about to enter the school where his 
brother had been educated. 

Heinrich stood, broad shouldered and sturdy, at the 
open door, and looked after the carriage as it rumbled 
slowly over the uneven stones of the Square. Some- 
thing like a low whistle escaped his lips, a sign that he 
was well content, and he stuck both his thumbs into his 
closed hands, a provincial gesture signifying ‘Preserve 
us from a return of misfortune !’ 

“Well, for nearly half a score of years we shall see 
nothing of those boys in this house,” he said with glee 
to Frederika, who was dutifully holding her apron to her 
eyes. 

“Does that please you, you blockhead?” che asked. 
“Is that all the thanks you have for the present the young 
master made you?” \ 

“Go into your kitchen, you’ll find the money lying 
upon your hearth. I won’t touch it. You can take it 
and buv a red dress and yellow shoes to wear at the next 
fair!” 

“Oh, you miserable fellow! a red dress and yeUow 
shoes like a rope-dancer!” cried the angry woman. “Oh, 


68 


TEE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


it’s easy enough to see why you are in such an ill humour, 
— the young master served you well this morning!” 

“ Yery much you know about it,” said her fellow-ser- 
vant, carelessly. He put his hands in his pockets, 
shrugged his shoulders, and planted himself upon the 
threshold of the door more sturdily than before. This 
excited Frederika’s rage, as evincing the utmost contempt 
for all she had said. 

“For a man with only twenty thalers wages, and at 
most fifty thalers in the saving fund, to stand up before 
his master like the great Mogul, and say, ‘ Give me the 
child, my sister will bring it up, and she shall not cost 
you a farthing,’ and ” 

“And the young master replied,” concluded Heinrich, 
turning slowly toward the cook, “‘the child is in excel- 
lent hands, Heinrich, she will remain here in this house 
until she is eighteen years old, and you must be careful 
not to encourage her in any disrespect to my mother; 
and if you should ever catch that old witch in the kitchen 
listening, nail her ear to the door instantly.’ What do 
you think, Frederika, of my ” 

He raised his hand, and the old cook ran scolding into 
the kitchen. 


CHAPTER X. 

Nine years had flown over the stately house in the 
Square, but they had left no sign of decay, no alteration 
either in the solid walls or in the stern profile daily seen 
at the window of the lower story. Perhaps an attentive 
observer might have noticed less distinctness of outline 
in th<s dragons’ heads upon the edge of the roof, but no 


TILE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


wonder, they had been shedding heaven’s tears continu* 
ally through these long years upon the pavement below, 
while in the intervals of their weeping the sun had 
scorched them with its rays. Such changes always 
must alter countenances. But Madame below there 
stood firmly upon the pedestal of her faith in her own 
infallibility ; in the icy atmosphere of that, there are no 
doubts, no conflicts, no inward struggles to break the ex- 
terior petrifaction, which is called ‘ an excellent state of 
preservation.’ 

Yet there was a striking change in the old house. For 
some weeks the curtains at the windows of the second 
story had been drawn aside, and vases of flowers stood 
upon the window-sills. The glances of the passers-by 
fell first, as usual, upon the window with the asclepias 
plant, behind which Frau Hellwig was still sure of a re- 
spectful greeting from all ; but then the eyes were irre- 
sistibly attracted to the window above. Looking out 
from its stone framework was often now to be seen a 
charming face, fresh as a rose, a head covered with flaxen 
curls, and two dovelike blue eyes that looked out upon 
the world with childlike naivete. To this lovely head 
belonged a body of exquisite proportions, clothed almost 
always in white muslin. Sometimes — not often — the 
lovely apparition at the window was accompanied by 
what was indeed a foil to its beauty — a little child, who 
had clambered upon a chair, looked over the lady’s shoul- 
der into the Square. The little face was wasted and dis- 
figured by disease. The hand that had curled the thin 
flaxen hair so artistically, had laboured in vain, — it had 
only heightened the plainness of the face, whose pallor 
was further enhanced by an elegant dress, but poorly 
adapted to conceal the misshapen figure and swollen 
joints of the poor child. 


TO 


THE OLD MAX' SELLS' S SECRET. 


Notwithstanding this contrast, they were mother and 
child, and had come to Thuringia on account of the health 
of the latter. 

Within the last nine years an engineer had flourished 

his magic wand above and below the soil of X , and 

this modern Moses’ rod had revealed a bitter spring, 
which if it did not harden into gold and silver upon con- 
tact with the air, certainly developed precious crystal 

salt. The inhabitants of X took the hint. They 

established baths, the fame of which, combined with the 
wholesome quality of the Thuringian air, attracted crowds 
of invalids from the neighbouring towns. 

The aforesaid lady had come to the place for the sake 
of the salt baths, which had been ordered for her child 
by Professor John Hellwig, of Bonn. Yes, Madame 
behind her asclepias plant had done much for her son. 
She had insisted in his early youth that he should be 
placed under the strict discipline of her relative on the 
Bhine, and that he should never once visit his home 
during the nine years of his stay there. She had sent 
him to Bonn — his name was upon her lips every morning 
at her priedieu, and she was never weary of caring for 
the fineness and size of his wardrobe — and now he had 
become a famous man. 

Still the young Professor with all his fame and skill 
would hardly have succeeded in inducing his mother to 
receive his patients as tenants of her closed second story, 
had not these patients been daughter and granddaughter 
of that orthodox relative on the Rhine, by whom Madame 
set great store. And besides, the beautiful young creature 
had quite a high-sounding title — she was the widow of a 
Court Councillor of Bonn. It could be no degradation 
in the world to have a Councillor’s widow as tenant, 


THE OLD MAM’SELLE’S SECRET. 


71 


although Herr Hell wig had always declined all civic 
honours himself, and thus left his widow without a title. 

Madame sat on the couch by the window. Time had 
made no change in the fine black dress ; the white collar 
and cuffs, and even the little brooch at her neck, were 
precisely as we found them on the evening when we first 
made her acquaintance. Her form w T as rather fuller, and 
the folds of her skirt were perhaps broader and more im 
posing than before. At present, her large white hands, 
with her knitting, were resting solemnly in her lap — the 
great lady had something important to attend to. 

Near the door, at a respectful distance, stood a man — 
his thin figure was clad in a threadbare coat, and his 
hand, which he now and then stretched out in speaking, 
was hard and horny. His tones were low and hesitating, 
the room was so embarrassingly quiet that the ticking ol 
the clock against the wall could be distinctly heard No 
encouraging word escaped Madame’s lips — she scarcely 
seemed to breathe, so cold and fixed was the gaze which 
she riveted upon the man’s countenance. At last he 
stopped, exhausted, and wiped the perspiration from his 
forehead with his cotton handkerchief. 

“You have applied to the wrong person, Master Thiene- 
mann,” Madame said coldly, after a short pause. “I never 
scatter my money about in such small sums.” 

“Ah, Madame Hellwig, I never meant that, — I would 
not have been so bold for the world,” replied the man, 
coming a step nearer to her, “but you are well known as 
a benevolent lady who is always collecting a fund for the 
poor — your name is often in the paper connected with 
charitable purposes — all I would ask is that from your 
fund for the destitute you will lend me twenty-five thaler** 
upon interest for six months.” 


72 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


Madame smiled — the man did not know that this smile 
was death to his hopes. 

“I cannot conceive, Master Thienemann,” she rejoined 
sharply, “how a man in his senses could ask such a 
thing. This is something quite new. But I know that 
you take no interest in the pious labours of our church 
members, and therefore I must tell you that not one 
thaler of the fund in my hands is distributed in this town. 
I have collected it for missionary purposes — it is conse- 
crated gold — devoted entirely to a work well pleasing to 
the Lord, not to the support of people who are able to 
work.” 

“Ah, Madame, I am only too willing to work,” cried 
the man, with a choking voice; “my illness has brought 
me so low . . . Good Heavens! many a time in better 
days I have spent my holiday in making some little 
article for yeur charitable fairs, because I thought they 
were for the assistance of some of my poor neighbours, 
but all the money will be sent away from here, while so 
many of us have not a shoe to our feet or a stick of wood 
in our houses for winter ” 

“Pray reserve your remarks. We sometimes dis- 
tribute charity in this place, but we make exceptions of 
those who attend mechanics’ lyceums, and waste their 
time in listening to lectures full of false doctrine. You 
had much better, Master Thienemann, stick to your 
work-bench than pry into stars and stones only to find 
in them a contradiction of Holy Writ. Yes, yes, we hoar 
all about such blasphemous proceedings, and act accord- 
ingly. Now you know my views, and that you have 
nothing to expect from me!” 

Madame turned away and looked out of the window. 

“Good God’ how much poor people have to endure!” 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


73 


sighed the man. “’Tis my wife’s fault, — she gave me no 
peace until I came here.” 

He looked over towards the other window of the apart- 
ment, but finding no look of pity there either, he left the 
room. 

The poor fellow’s last look had been directed towards 
the Councillor’s widow, who was sitting opposite Madame, 
at the other window. If ever v there were a woman appa- 
rently created to inspire hope in a heart crushed by want, 
it was that rosy creature in the airy, spotless white dress. 
The tender outline of the profile, the mild glory of the 
light curls above the brow, with the large blue eyes, pro 
duced the impression of a cherub’s-head ; but to the at- 
tentive observer it would have seemed cut in stone, for 
while Madame’s face had now and then been suffused by 
a flush, while the poor man had eloquently pleaded his 
cause and told his woes, nothing had disturbed for a mo- 
ment the smiling repose of that countenance. The lovely 
bosom rose and fell without any agitation, the rose upon 
her embroidery had received an additional leaf during the 
last few minutes, and no mistake could possibly have been 
found in the carefully counted stitches. 

“Do not let it vex you, dear aunt,” she said, looking 
up with a gentle, beseeching glance, when Master Thiene- 
mann had left the room. “My poor husband could not 
endure these progressive mechanics, and the lyceums 
were odious to him. Ah, here is Caroline!” 

And she pointed to the door leading to the kitchen. 
A young girl had been standing there for some minutes, 
having entered noiselessly, even before the carpenter had 
left the room. Any one who fourteen years before had 
seen the beautiful young wife of the juggler as she stood 
before the muskets of the soldiers, would have started 

7 


74 


TEE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


with involuntary terror at what must for a moment have 
seemed to him a resurrection from the dead. There was 
the same graceful figure, somewhat slighter and more 
maidenly, and clad in coarse dark stuff, while that un- 
fortunate woman had been surrounded by the glittering 
tinsel of the theatre. There was the same faultlessly 
shaped head, the same low white forehead, and that 
slight depression of the corners of the mouth, which gave 
to the face an enchanting expression of melancholy. This 
expression had, with the unhappy mother, been height- 
ened by the tearful glance of dark-gray eyes ; but when 
the young girl lifted her darkly fringed eyelids, she dis- 
closed sparkling eyes of dark-brown. They bore witness 
to a nature which could never be crushed into submissive 
endurance, — there was power and resistance in their 
gaze, — was not Polish blood flowing in her veins, — 
drops from that noble stream which has always risen 
fruitlessly against oppression? 

We know now that the young girl standing at the 
door is Felicitas, although she answers to the simple 
name of Caroline. The ‘theatrical name’ had been dis- 
carded long ago, with the ‘theatrical stuff’ in the lumber- 
room, by Madame. 

Felicitas approached the mistress of the house, and 
laid upon her work-table an exquisitely embroidered lace 
handkerchief. The Councillor’s widow hastily took it up. 

“Is this to be sold for the benefit of the mission?” she 
asked, as she unfolded it and examined the embroidery. 

“Yes,” replied Madame, — “I had Caroline work it for 
that purpose. She has been long enough about it. I 
suppose it will bring three thalers ?” 

“Perhaps so,” said the Councillor’s widow, shrugging 
her shoulders. “Where did you get the pattern for the 
corners, dear child?” 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


75 


A fleeting blush mounted to Felicitas’ cheei: “I de- 
signed it myself,” she replied gently. 

The young widow looked up quickly: “Designed it 
yourself!” she repeated slowly, and her blue eyes seemed 
to have in them a shade of green. “ I don’t mean to vex 
you, child, — but, try as I may, I cannot conceive of such 
temerity. How could you attempt such a thing, with no 
knowledge of drawing? This is genuine lace, — it must 
have cost aunt at least a thaler, and now it is ruined by 
that clumsy pattern.” 

Frau Hellwig looked up angrily. 

“Ah, do not be angry with Caroline, dear aunt,” the 
young widow entreated, in a gentle, beseeching tone. 

“ She meant well, I am sure. Perhaps the evil can be 
remedied. See here, my child, I have never studied 
drawing, I confess, — the idea of the pencil in a woman’s 
hand does not please me, — but I have, nevertheless, the 
truest eye for outline. Heavens ! look what a monstrous 
leaf that is!” 

She pointed to a long leaf, the point of which was most 
artistically curled. Felicitas answered not a word — but 
she compressed her beautiful lips, and gazed fixedly in the * 
face of her critic. The Councillor’s widow turned hastily 
away, and covered her eyes with her hand. 

“Ah, dear child, that piercing look again!” she said, 
complainingly. “It really does not become a young girl 
in your position to stare so at other people. Think of 
what your best friend, our good Secretary Wellner, al- 
ways says: ‘Sweet humility, dear Caroline.’ And there 
is that contemptuous expression around your mouth 
again — it is too provoking. Do you really mean to play 
a romantic part, and obstinately reject the excellent 
man’s proposal just because — you do not love him? Ki- 


76 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE' 8 SECRET. 


diculous! But my cousin John will have a word or two 
to say to this matter 1” 

How perfect the girl had become in the habit of self- 
control 1 At the young widow’s last words, the hot re- 
bellious blood mounted to her forehead — and the head 
thrown back showed for a moment something almost 
demonic in its expression of hate and contempt. But 
she immediately replied, coldly and quietly: “I shall be 
quite ready to hear them.” 

“How often must I request you, Adele, not to allude 
to that provoking affair?” said Frau Hellwig angrily 
“Do you imagine that you can in two or three weeks 
bend this stick of wood — this obstinacy which I have 
laboured at nine years in vain? As soon as John comes, 
the whole matter will be at an end, to my infinite joy. 
Now go and bring me my bonnet and shawl,” turning to 
Felicitas, “I hope this wretched piece of work,” throw- 
ing the handkerchief contemptuously aside, “will be the 
last that you will have an opportunity of spoiling in my 
service 1” 

Felicitas left the room silently. Shortly afterward Frau 
Hellwig and her guest walked across the Square. The 
beautiful widow led her child tenderly by the hand. 
Several people gazed after her from their windows, — the 
lovely creature had a gentle childlike smile for all. Bosa, 
her maid, and Frederika, followed with baskets. Tea was 
to be drank in the garden outside of the town — and long 
wreaths and garlands were to be made. 

To-morrow the young Professor was expected home 
after his nine-years’ absence, and although Madame mut- 
tered something about ‘silly nonsense,’ the Councillor’s 
young widow was determined to decorate the young 
man’s room in honour of his arrival. 


THE OLD MAM’SELLE'S SECRET. 


11 


CHAPTER XI. 

Heinrich closed the street door and Felicitas flew up 
stairs. How dear to the young girl was the narrow pas- 
sage through which she now hurried! Then came a quiet 
landing — a winding staircase, with large worm-eaten 
steps, that ascended from the twilight below to where a 
faint ray of light through old green glass panes revealed 
an ancient door, covered with stiffly painted tulips and 
brick-red roses. Felicitas took a key from her pocket 
and noiselessly opened this door, on the other side of 
which was a narrow dark flight of steps leading to the 
rooms under the roof. 

The young girl had never made another expedition over 
the roofs. Ever since that first day when she had made 
her unexpected appearance there, Mam’selle’s rooms had 
been always open to her. For the first year her visits 
there had been paid only on Sundays, and then always 
in Heinrich’s society. But after her confirmation, Mam’- 
selle had given her a key to the painted door, and after 
that she had slipped up at every spare moment. Thus 
she led a double existence. It was not only the material 
change from dim twilight below to the clear sunlight 
above — her mind experienced a like change — and at last 
grew so strong that all the care and anxiety of the lower 
world vanished as soon as she began to ascend the dark, 
narrow staircase. Below stairs she ironed and swept 
and dusted, using her leisure, as it was called, in em- 
broidering articles, which were, as we have seen, devoted 
to the benefit of the missions, and except in her Bible 
and prayer book, all reading was strictly forbidden her, 

1 * 


78 


TEE OLD MAH' BELLE'S SECRET. 


But in Mam’selle’s home the rich domain of the human 
intellect lay wide open for her. She studied with avidity, 
and the knowledge possessed by the mysterious inhab- 
itant of those rooms was like an inexhaustible fountain, 
like a well-cut diamond, emitting brilliant sparks of light 
in whatever direction it was turned. Except Heinrich, 
no one in the house knew of the intercourse between the 
young girl and the old Mam’selle, — the least suspicion of 
it on the part of Madame would have been its deathblow. 
Although Mam’selle had strictly enjoined upon the child 
always to tell the truth if questioned upon the subject, 
Heinrich had guarded the secret so closely that no ques- 
tions had ever been asked — he was always on the watch 
with open eyes and ears. 

The dark staircase was ascended, Felicitas stood list- 
ening before a door, then pushed a little panel in it 
aside, and looked in smiling. Within there was a perfect 
hubbub of singing and chirping. In the middle of the 
room two young firs were planted in huge tubs, and all 
around the walls was growing a perfect grove of plants, 
fresh and green, upon the boughs of which was perched 
a multitude of birds. This was the only life with which 
the old Mam’selle could surround herself up here in her 
hermitage. ’Tis true these little voices always sung the 
same thing, but then there was no chance of the change 
which characterizes the voices that can cry ‘ Hosanna!’ 
one day and ‘Crucify him’ the next. Felicitas closed 
the panel and opened another door. The reader has al- 
ready seen the interior of this ivy-draped apartment, nine 
years ago — he knows the collection of grave busts that 
is ranged around the walls — but he does not know how 
nearly they are allied to those large books bound in red 
morocco, which he may see behind the glass doors of 
that antique cabinet. From behind those grave brows a 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


79 


mighty flood of inspiration broke, and there is no lonelr 
ness, no desolation for those who can bathe in it. The 
images and the works of the master-composers of various 
times shared the old Mam’selle ’s asylum, and as the ivy 
wreathed itself impartially around all the busts, so did 
Mam’selle enjoy the old Italian and the Germau schools 
with equal relish. But that cabinet with glass doors 
concealed treasures which would have thrown an auto- 
graph collector into ecstacies. Manuscripts and letters 
of those old masters, most of them of rare worth, were 
in portfolios behind those doors. This collection had 
been made many years before, when, as the old Mam’selle 
said with a smile, her young blood was flowing cheerily 
in her veins and her youthful energies stood waiting to 
carry out her wishes, — many a faded autograph had been 
the result of girlish perseverance and self-sacrifice. 

Felicitas found the old Mam’selle in a room behind her 
bed-room. She was sitting upon a foot-stool before an 
open drawer, and all around her, upon chairs and on the 
floor, lay bundles of linen and flannel, and a multitude of 
garments, so small that they were evidently designed to 
receive some little human existence after its first cry in 
the world. Her delicate features were sensibly altered, 
and although she looked up with a welcoming smile, the 
traces which the last nine years had left upon her kindly 
countenance could not be ignored. 

“I am so glad you have come, my dear Fay!” she ex 
claimed. “ The stork has just paid a visit to poor Master 
Thienemann’s wife — and the poor woman has nothing, 
not even a roll of linen, for the baby. We have good 
store here, though ; there is not much to be done, and we 
can send olf a most respectable bundle if you will only 
take a few stitches for me,” and she held up a little cap 
in one hand and a roll of very narrow lace in the other. 


80 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


“Ah, Aunt Cordula,” said Felicitas, taking up her 
needle and thread, “these poor people need more than all 
this ! I have just learned that Master Thienemann needs 
money sadly — twenty-five thalers.” 

The old Mam’selle pondered for a moment. 

“ Hm ! — rather a large sum for my present finances,” 
said she, “but he must have it.” 

She arose slowly and feebly. Felicitas offered her arm 
and supported her to the music-room. 

“But, aunt,” she said suddenly standing still, “do you 
remember a little while ago Frau Thienemann refused to 
make up that linen for you for fear of offending Madame ?” 

“ I really believe you will do your best to lead your 
old aunt astray,” cried the old Mam’selle, half angrily, — 
but her eyes smiled playfully, and she lightly tapped the 
young girl’s cheek with her slender finger. Both laughed, 
and crossed the room to the cabinet with the glass doors. 

This worm-eaten antique piece of furniture could be 
mysterious too. Aunt Cordula pressed a very innocent- 
looking ornament, and a little door immediately flew open 
in one of the sides. The space thus disclosed was the 
Mam’selle’s bank, and in former years had seemed to Fe- 
licitas an inexhaustible mine of fairy treasures, so be- 
witching had been the few glimpses that she had had of 
the wonders that it contained ; — on the shelves inside 
were several rolls of gold, a quantity of silver plate, and 
various articles of jewelry. 

While Aunt Cordula opened one of the rolls of gold, 
and counted out the thalers carefully, Felicitas seized 
upon a little box, which was almost hidden in a dark 
corner, and opened it eagerly. Within was a golden 
bracelet lying upon cotton wool, — no precious stone en- 
riched it, but its weight showed it to be of massive solid 
gold. The most remarkable thing about it, however, was 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


81 


its size. It seemed to have been made for the muscular 
wrist of a man, — it would certainly have slipped over 
any woman’s hand. Towards the middle it was very 
broad, and here the graver’s tool had carved a graceful 
wreath of roses and leaves, wonderfully well executed, 
enclosing a medallion, upon which was engraved the fol- 
lowing verse: 

Swa liep ein ander meinent, 

Herzenlichen ane wane, 

Und sich beidiu so vereinet, — 

The young girl turned the bracelet in every direction, 
looking for the rest of the verse, — for although not very 
learned in old German, she easily translated the last line 
into 'And where both are so united,’ — but that could not 
be the end. 

“Aunt Cordula, do you know the rest?” she asked, still 
examining the bracelet. 

The old Mam’selle pressed her finger upon the thaler 
she had just put down, and looked up in the midst of her 
counting. 

“ Oh, child! what have you got there?” she exclaimed 
hastily, with displeasure, terror, and grief all expressed in 
the tones of her voice. She took the bracelet instantly, 
and with trembling fingers laid it back in its box and 
closed the cover. A delicate colour flushed her pale 
cheeks, and her knit brows lent an expression of brooding 
melancholy to her face, which Felioitas had never seen 
there before. Yes, — it seemed as though for a few mo- 
ments the present had vanished utterly beneath the flood 
of recollection which was overwhelming the old Mam’- 
selle’s mind, — as if the presence of Felicitas were utterly 
forgotten, — for after she had restored the bracelet to its 
place in the corner with feverish haste, she took up 
F 


82 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


another box standing beside it covered with gray paper, 
and smoothed its worn corners and stroked it caressingly, 
— her face grew gentle again, and she murmured as she 
pressed the box between her shrunken hands: “It must 
die before me — and yet I cannot look on and see it perish.” 

Felicitas threw her arms around the feeble little figure, 
which seemed for a moment so frail and helpless. It was 
the first time in the nine years of their intercourse that 
she had ever seen Aunt Cordula lose her self-control. 
Delicate and frail as she seemed to the eye, her strength 
of mind and soul never forsook her. No outward cir- 
cumstance had any power to disturb the balance of her 
clear intelligence. With every fibre of her heart she 
dearly loved Felicitas, and had lavished upon the young 
girl the treasures of her knowledge and experience, — the 
results of her true healthy spiritual life, — but not an allu- 
sion to the past had ever crossed her lips — it was as 
sealed a book to-day as it had been nine years before. 
And Felicitas had just rudely opened the carefully-sealed 
book, — she reproached herself most bitterly. 

“Ah, aunt, forgive me!” — she entreated. How gently 
beseeching were the tones of this young girl, whom Ma- 
dame had called — a stick of wood. 

The old Mam’selle passed her hand over her eyes. 

“Be quiet, child, you did no harm, — but I — I was talk- 
ing like a childish old woman!” she said, in a choked 
voice. “Yes, I have grown old, old and feeble! I used 
to be able to shut my tongue between my teeth, and keep 
strict watch over it — but I can do it no longer, — ’tis time 
I laid me down to rest.” 

She held the little gray box still hesitatingly in her 
hands, as if she were struggling for the courage to execute 
the sentence of death which she had just pronounced upon 
it. But after a few minutes, she put it hastily back into 


THE OLD MAM' SELLER SECRET. 


83 


the* corner whence she had taken it, and closed the cabi- 
ns t, — and in doing so she seemed to regain all her former 
cjmposure. She went back to the round table near the 
cabinet, where she had been counting the money, and, as 
if nothing had happened, finished her work. 

“Now we will fold the money in a piece of white 
paper,” she said to Felicitas, and her voice still betrayed 
inward emotion, “and put it inside the cap — which shall 
thus contain a blessing even before the little head is put 
into it, — and Heinrich must be at his post punctually at 
nine this evening — don’t forget that.” 

The old Mam’selle was eccentric — her deeds shunned 
the light. Like the bat, she grew very active at night, 
and visited many a haunt of poverty, when the streets 
were empty and deserted. Heinrich had for years been 
her right hand — of which the left was unconscious ; he 
distributed Mam’selle’s bounty as slyly as though dis- 
covery would cost him his living; and many a poor 
wretch in the town who gave ear to, and devoutly be- 
lieved the most monstrous stories concerning her, lived 
upon the old Mam’selle’s alms. This eccentricity of hers 
would have been inexplicable to those pious souls who 
religiously fulfil the Bible injunction: ‘Let your light 
shine.’ 

While Aunt Cordula was wrapping up the money, Fe- 
licitas opened the glass door which led out upon the gal- 
lery. It was the end of May. Ah, how few of those 
who are never weary of lauding the spring, know how 
delicious is her coming in the land of Thuringia! There 
she is no fair-haired exultant oMld of the south, with wild 
ecstacy in her veins, in whose footsteps spring up groves 
of orange and myrtle. Majesty clothes her brow, and 
upon her lips blooms the serene smile of thoughtful crea- 
tion She mixes her colours gravely, and paints her pic- 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


b4 

tures with slow precision — we follow the strokes of her 
pencil with silent joy — they are not bold and rash, but 
tender and full of grace. The brownish-green down 
which clothes the mountain’s breast while its crest is still 
encircled by a snowy crown, she changes gradually and 
gently to green twigs of May, — the fine network of grass 
and weeds that covers the brown sods and the meadows 
dull with last year’s growth, she sprinkles with snow- 
drops and violets like a careful gardener, before she lav- 
ishes her wealth of colour upon grove and field. And 
the breath of her mouth is that bracing air which steels 
the nerves and sinews of the child of Thuringia, makes 
his heart sensitive to song, and tenacious of poetic super- 
stitions, preserves his sense of right, often inspires him 
with a spirit of antagonism, and gives him his naive, 
frank nature. 

The green strips of cultured land were already seen 
running down into the valley from the wooded sides of 
the mountains, like green ribbons. The roughest old 
knotty pear-tree, as well as the youngest cherry-tree, was 
surmounted by its wreath of snowy blossoms, an equally 
youthful face upon each stem, — an impartiality of nature’s 
which man longs in vain to partake of. On the edge of 
the gallery bloomed hyacinths, May-flowers, and tulips, 
and at each side of the glass door large syringa and snow- 
ball bushes were growing in boxes. 

Felicitas carried into the music-room the round table 
and the old Mam-selle’s comfortable arm-chair. Upon 
the table she spread a fresh napkin, and made the coffee 
in the dainty little service. When the rich odour of the 
Mocha berry floated out upon the air, the old Mam’selle 
sat at the table looking upon the landscape lying beneath 
ihe genial sun of spring. 

Felicitas had taken up her sewing ag?in. 


THE OLD MAW BELLE S SECRET. 


85 


“Aunt,” she said after a little pause, emphasizing every 
word, “he is coming to-morrow.” 

“So I see, my child, by the papers; the news letter 
from Bonn says ‘ Prof. Hellwig will spend two months in 
Thuringia for the sake of his health.’ He has come to 
be a famous man, Fay.” 

“Fame comes to him easily enough. His duty can 
never be made difficult by sympathy with his kind. He 
can cut into the body or the soul of his patients with 
equal satisfaction.” 

The old Mam’selle looked up at the girl with surprise, 
— this unspeakable bitterness of tone was quite new to 
her. 

“Take care that you are not unjust, my child!” she 
said slowly, and with extreme gentleness, after a mo- 
ment’s pause. 

Pelicitas looked up quickly, — her brown eyes were at 
this moment almost black. 

“ 1 should not know how to begin to think otherwise 
of him,” she replied, “he has sinned against me most 
heavdy, — and I know that I should feel no pity for any 
misfortune that might happen to him, — and if by only 
raising my finger I could do him a kindness, I know 
I should never do it.” 

“Fie!” 

“Yes, aunt, this is the truth. I have always shown 
you a cheerful face up here, because I would not for the 
world have poisoned the moments that we could spend 
together. You have often thought me peaceful and quiet 
in mind, when all was uproar within me. Let yourself 
be trodden under foot every hour of every day, hear how 
your parents are scorned as accursed of God, every im- 
agined fault in yourself ascribed to them, be conscious of 

8 


86 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE ’S SECRET. 


continual aspiration after a higher culture, and find your- 
self degraded with sneers to a position among those to 
whom culture is unknown because you are poor and have 
no right to any lofty aspiration, see how your tormentors 
are surrounded by a halo of piety, and crush out your 
very soul with the name of God continually upon their 
lips, — and if you can bear it all quietly, if every drop of 
blood in your veins does not cry out against such injus- 
tice, — yours is no angelic endurance, but the cowardly 
slavish submission of a weak nature which deserves to 
be trodden under foot.” 

Felicitas spoke quietly, in a clear ringing voice. What 
power Over her exterior this strange young creature pos- 
sessed! She scarcely moved a finger as the tide of pas- 
sionate words poured from her lips. 

“The thought of being again confronted with that 
stony face excites me more than I can tell you, aunt. I 
must now hear that heartless, soulless voice utter all that 
he has written concerning me for the last nine years. 
Like some cruel boy who lets a poor bird flutter at the 
end of a string, he has chained me to this house, and 
would have converted my uncle’s will into a curse for 
me. Can anything be more cruel than his treatment of 
me? It was of course impossible that a player’s child 
could have any mental capacity, any warmth of heart, 
any keen sense of honour, — she could atone for her dis- 
graceful parentage only by becoming what they call a 
handmaiden of the Lord — a wretched being cramped in 
on every side by the narrowest prejudice.” 

“I hope we are something a little better than that, my 
child,” said Aunt Cordula, with a meaning smile. “At 
any rate his coming will bring about a final change in 
your life,” she added more seriously. 

“Yes, there will only be a few struggles more. Madame 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET. 


37 


consoled me to-day with the hope that all will soon be 
over.” 

“Then I shall not need repeat to you that you must 
wait patiently down there, that you may fulfil the last 
will of one who took you to his home and loved you like 
his own child. Then you will be entirely free, and can 
take care of your old aunt openly, without any fear of 
our being separated from each other, — for no one will 
have any power to do so.” 

Felicitas looked up with sparkling eyes, — she took the 
little withered hand of the old Mam’selle and pressed it 
to her lips. 

“And do not think the worse of me, aunt, now that I 
have opened my heart to you,” she entreated in gentle 
tones. “I love my kind, I appreciate them highly, and 
I have been strengthened in my resistance to mental 
degradation by the hope of being something more among 
them than a useless beast of burden. If certain among 
them have ill treated me, I would not for the world ac- 
cuse the mass. I do not even mistrust them. But I 
cannot love my enemies, and bless those who curse me. 
If this is a dark spot in my character I cannot help it — 
and indeed, aunt, I do not wish to, — for here seems to 
me to be the boundary line between gentleness and pu- 
sillanimity !” 

Aunt Cordula did not speak, but gazed thoughtfully at 
Felicitas. Had there been a time in her own life when 
to forgive had been impossible, except after heart-search- 
ing struggles with herself? She did not continue the 
conversation, but took up needle and thread, and both 
sewe^ until twilight, when a most comfortable bundle 
was ready for the poor Thienemanns. Snugly packed 
away in it was the small sum of money for the loan of 
which the poor carpenter had in vain entreated the ‘ chosen 


88 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS* S SECRET. 


of the Lord,’ but which he would now unconsciously re- 
ceive from ‘one of the world’s people.’ 

When Felicitas left the old Mam’selle, the party from 
the garden had returned to the house. She heard little 
Anna, the young widow’s child, laughing and talking, 
and a loud hammering was going on in the second story. 
She flew along the corridor leading to the main building. 
Heinrich was standing on a step-ladder nailing garlands 
above a door. At sight of Felicitas, he made an odd 
grimace expressive of anger and contempt, in which, 
however, there was much dry humour, and gave the nails 
two or three additional strokes, powerful enough to have 
broken them to pieces, before he descended from his lofty 
position. 

Little Anna had been gravely holding the ladder that 
it might not fall ; but when she saw Felicitas she forgot 
her important office, and, tottering feebly towards the 
young girl, threw her arms caressingly around her knees. 
Felicitas lifted her from the floor and held her in her arms. 

“Shouldn’t you think,” asked Heinrich, in a vexed un- 
dertone, “that we were to have a wedding here to-mor- 
row ? and all for a man who will walk in, turning neither 
to the right nor the left, and will go about all day looking 
as if he had been drinking vinegar.” 

He held up the end of one of the garlands: “Just look,” 
he said, “see the forget-me-nots in it. Well, those who 
put them there, I suppose know why they did it. But, 
Fay,” he interrupted himself suddenly, looking at the 
child who was pressing her wasted cheek against Feli- 
citas’ face, “do me the kindness not to be always taking 
that wretched child in your arms. There is not a healthy 
drop of blood in its body. I am sure it cannot be good 
for you.” 

Felicitas quickly put her left arm around the little girl 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 


89 


and pressed her closely to her breast. The child hid her 
face in terror of Heinrich’s cross words, so that only her 
light curls could be seen, — and as the young girl stood 
there, a more charming picture of a Madonna could not 
be imagined. 

She was upon the point of replying reprovingly, when 
the garlanded door opened, — it must have been ajar, for 
it swung slowly wide open, affording a full view of the 
interior of the room. It was decked as if for a bride — 
vases full of flowers stood upon the broad sill of its only 
window — and the Councillor’s widow had just festooned 
a long garland above the writing-table. She was stepping 
back to observe the effect of her work when she became 
aware of the group just outside the door. Perhaps the 
resemblance to a Madonna displeased her, for she knit 
her brows, and calling to her maid who was dusting the 
furniture in the room, pointed towards the open door. 

“Get down right away, Anna,” said Rosa, hurrying 
out. “ Your mamma always tells you not to let any one 
take you up and carry you. My mistress does not like,” 
she continued pertly, turning to Felicitas, “to have Anna 
petted and kissed by everybody ; she does not think it 
healthy.” 

She led the weeping child into the room and jclosed the 
door. 

“Ah, gracious powers! what people they are!” growled 
Heinrich, as he went down stairs. “You see what you 
get by your kindness, Fay! These people think their 
diseases are as aristocratic as themselves, and you must 
be grateful to God for permission to lay your healthy 
hands upon their sickly bodies!” 

Felicitas silently descended the stairs by his side. Just 
as they reached the hall, a carriage rumbled across the 
Square and stopped at the street door. Before Heinrich 

8 * 


90 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


cuuld get to the door, it was thrown wide open. The 
hall was nearly dark, and only the outline of a tall manly 
figure could be seen upon the threshold. 

In three steps the gentleman reached the door of the 
sitting-room, which was opened from within. An excla- 
mation of surprise broke from Madame, followed, how- 
ever, by the cold greeting: “You have grown unpunctual, 
John, we did not expect you until to-morrow,” — then the 
door was closed, and the carriage waiting without and 
the delicate aroma of a fine cigar were all that testified to 
the arrival. 

“ It was he 1” whispered Felicitas, laying her hand upon 
her throbbing heart. 

“Now for it!” muttered Heinrich, at the same time 
listening at the foot of the stairs. 

The wild huntsman seemed careering above. The 
Councillor’s widow actually flew down the steps, her fair 
curls waving, and her white dress floating around her 
like a cloud. 

She left Rosa and the limping child far behind her, and 
quickly entered the sitting-room. 

“Aha ! Fay, — now we know why those forget-me-nots 
were so thick in the garland,” laughed Heinrich, as he 
went out^to superintend the bringing in of the baggage. 

The next morning early, Felicitas took advantage of a 
leisure moment and slipped up to Aunt Cordula to tell 
her of the success of Heinrich’s errand to the Thiene- 
manns. Upon the landing of the second story, Heinrich 
came towards her with a grin of delight, as he pointed his 
thumb over his shoulder at the door above which he had 
nailed the garland the day before. The decoration had 
vanished — a heap of wreaths lay upon the floor, and 
several vases of flowers were ranged there close to the 
wall. 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


91 


“ They came down in a hurry,” whispered Heinrich — 
“ one — two — three good tugs, and down came all the for- 
get-me-nots. I came up just as he was standing on the 
ladder.” 

“ Who ?” 

“ Why, the Professor. He made a terrible wry face, 
for I had nailed the things up to last there forever, and 
he had to tug and pull hard enough. But only think, 
Fay, he shook hands with me to-day when I bade him 
good morning 1 I tell you I was surprised . V 

Felicitas’ lip curled, — a biting comment was upon her 
tongue, — but she suddenly turned the corner and sped 
along the corridor, for quick steps within the room were 
heard approaching the door. 

As, some time afterwards, she returned from her visit 
up-stairs, she heard the gentle voice of the Councillor’s 
widow, — nothing could be more melodious than this 
woman’s voice. 

“Ah, the poor flowers!” said she. 

“You should not have taken all that trouble for me, 
Adele,” replied a masculine voice, — “you know I never 
could endure such things.” 

It was the same cold voice which had once made such 
a deep impression upon little Fay, — but the tone was 
deeper, and was now tinged with vexation. Felicitas 
stood upon the landing and fairly held her breath while 
she looked down. There he was, carefully leading Anna 
step by step down the stairs. There was nothing in 
his appearance which could suggest his title of Professor. 
The young girl had always imagined the gifted possessors 
of this title surrounded by a halo of refinement and cul- 
ture, but here she looked in vain for the outward and 
visible sign of such mental grace. She saw a muscular, 
compactly -built figure, whose angular motions could not 


92 


TIIE OLD MAWSELLE'S SECRET. 


certainly be characterized as elegant, and about which 
there was an air of cold self-reliance, — it seemed as though, 
even in courteous greeting, that back could never bend. 
And there was nothing in the face to contradict the judg- 
ment w r hich the figure elicited. For a moment he turned 
his head, but there was no beauty in the expression of the 
features which she had connected in her childish imagina- 
tion with the Evangelist’s picture. 

A strong, curly, light-brown beard covered the lower 
part of the face, reaching to the breast, and between the 
eyebrows — drawn together at this moment with vexation 
at the be-garlanded room — was a deep wrinkle. But yet, 
there was something distinguished in the air of manly de- 
cision and determined force of will that characterized this 
unattractive exterior. 

And now he stooped down and took the limping child 
in his arms. 

“Come here, my child, — the,poor little legs are not 
strong enough yet to walk easily,” he said. It sounded 
astonishingly gentle and sympathetic. 

“He is not speaking to a player’s child,” thought Fe- 
licitas, and her heart swelled with bitterness. 

The morning was a very noisy one for the quiet house. 
The bell at the street door rang continually. There were 
plenty of people in this little town, as well as everywhere 
else in the world, anxious to bask in the sunshine which 
stream from any celebrity, — entirely oblivious of how it 
must illuminate their own insignificance. Their visits 
were a reprieve to Felicitas, who, much as she longed 
to have an end put' to the life she was leading, shrunk in 
terror from the impending interview with those whom she 
so detested. But the tenants of the sitting-room must 
have been anxious that this same interview should take 
place as quickly as possible, for scarcely was dinner over 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


1)3 


when Heinrich appeared in the kitchen, examined Feli- 
cias’ dress most carefully, brushed a little dust from her 
black sleeve, and said, with anxiety: “Put up that curl 
that has slipped out just over your ear, Fay, — make it 
smooth, — the people in there don’t like anything out of 
place, you know. You are to go into my old master’s 
study, — they are there. But what are you afraid of? — 
you are as pale as ashes. Courage! Fay,-^-he can’t take 
your head off!” 

Felicitas opened the door and stepped gently into her 
uncle’s former study. Her cheeks and lips were still 
white, and the absence of all colour gave to her features 
an almost unearthly air of repose. 

Just as on that stormy morning nine years ago, Ma- 
dame sat in the arm-chair at the window. Beside her, 
with his back turned to the door and his hands crossed 
behind him, stood the man who had resolutely condemned 
this young creature to a hard life of servitude, who had 
done all that lay in his power to close for her the domain 
of the intellect, and who had been, even when at a dis- 
tance, always ready to punish without stopping to ask — 
‘Do you really deserve it?’ 

Felicitas had been right in dreading this interview — for 
at the sight of him such a flood of bitterness and dislike 
welled up within her as made self-control almost impos- 
sible, and yet she never needed self-control more than at 
this critical moment. 

“Here is Caroline,” said Frau Hellwig. 

The Professor turned and started with surprise It 
had apparently never occurred to him that the player’s 
child, who had stood there stamping her foot like a little 
fury, might possibly grow up and become quiet and self- 
contained. It was she, stately and composed, although 
her eyes sought the ground. 


94 


TEE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


He stepped towards her, and his right arm moved in- 
voluntarily, — was he about to give her his hand, as he 
had done to Heinrich .in the morning? 

At the thought, her heart throbbed with an access of 
scorn, and the delicate fingers of the hand which hung im- 
movably at her side closed convulsively upon the palm, — 
but she raised her eyes, and from under their lashes looked 
with icy coldness at the man standing opposite to her. It 
was the gaze with which a bitter enemy meets an op- 
ponent. The Professor must have understood it, for he 
retreated involuntarily, and measured her with his keen 
glance from head to foot. 

At this moment some one knocked at the door, and the 
Councillor’s widow put in her lovely curly head — 

“May I come in?” she asked, in a tone of soft entreaty, 
— and without waiting for an answer she came into the 
room. 

“Ah, I am just in time to hear sentence passed,” she 
said. “My dear Caroline, you will soon see that there is 
a stronger will at work here than yours — and poor Well- 
ner will at last be made happy.” 

“I beg you, Adele, to let John speak,” cried Madame, 
ungraciously. 

“Well, let this point be settled first,” said the Profes- 
sor. He crossed his arms upon his chest, and leaned 
against a table behind him. “Will you tell me why you 
reject this man’s honourable proposals?” 

His quiet passionless £aze rested searchingly upon the 
girl’s face. 

“Because I despise him. He is a wretched hypocrite, 
who uses piety as a cloak for avarice and greed of gain,” 
she replied, with great firmness, — these blows must be 
parried by quiet, decided frankness. 

“Heavens! what a wicked slander!” cried the Council- 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


95 


lor’s widow. In her displeasure she clasped her white 
hands and looked beseechingly towards heaven, opening 
wide her large blue eyes. Madame uttered a short con- 
temptuous laugh. 

“Now, John, you have a sample of the mind and man- 
ner of your precious ward,” she cried. “She is quick 
enough to despise — 1 can assure you of that. I pray you 
end this as soon as possible. You can do nothing with her 
— and I have no mind to hear honest people slandered.” 

The Professor did not answer. He was stroking his 
beard with his hand — which was wonderfully white and 
well shaped — and gazing at the Councillor’s widow, who 
stood there like an adoring seraph. It almost seemed as 
if he had heard only her exclamation, — the corners of his 
mouth twitched slightly, — but who could read the mean- 
ing of that strange face? 

“How eagerly you must have pursued the study of 
character, Adele, during the few weeks of your stay here,” 
he said. “With such an advocate ” 

“But, in Heaven’s name! John,” the young widow in- 
terrupted him,— “you cannot think that I have any par- 
ticular interest ” She suddenly paused, and a deep 

blush mounted into her cheeks. 

And now decided contempt looked from the Profes- 
sor’s eyes. 

“All the ladies who come here — aunt’s friends — agree 
that Wellner is a most excellent man,” she said, depre- 
catingly. “All the missionary funds pass through his 
hands — and the members of our church have the greatest 
confidence in him.” 

“And you naturally rely upon their judgment,” con- 
cluded the Professor shortly. “I do not know the man,” 
he turned to Felicitas, “and therefore cannot say how far 
you are justified in your accusation.,” 


-96 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


“John!” broke in Madame, with excitement. 

“Not now, mother, — we will discuss this at some other 
time, alone together,” he said gently and soothingly. 
“Of course no one will put any force upon you,” he con- 
tinued, turning to Felicitas again. “I have hitherto al- 
ways maintained my right to enforce any commands laid 
upon you, in the first place, because I placed implicit 
confidence in the source whence such commands have 
proceeded, and, in the second place, because your char- 
acter is an exaggerated one, and one which always rebels 
against whatever w T ould conduce to its best good. But 
in a matter of this kind my power ceases. As far as I 
know, you are right, for you are young, and he is, as T 
hear, a man advanced in years, which is unsuitable. An- 
other great objection is the difference of station. At pres- 
ent he overlooks your origin, but a time almost always 
comes when such a thing is overlooked no longer. A 
disturbance of the social equilibrium is always productive 
of unhappiness.” 

How sensible and how heartless all this sounded I — 
He was the very embodiment at this moment of all those 
written instructions from Bonn which had always kept in 
full view the siough of disgrace from which the ‘player’s 
child ’ had been extricated. He left his former place and 
stepped up to the girl, whose lips were quivering with 
a bitter smile — 

“You have been a great care to us,” he said, raising 
his forefinger. “You have never known how — and as I 
am compelled to think, — you have never desired, to gain 
my mother’s approval. As matters stand you can hardly 
wish to remain in this house any longer.” 

“I am most desirous of leaving it immediately.” 

“That I can readily believe, — you have never been at 
any pains to conceal your dislike of our strict decorous 


THE OLD MAM'S EL LE'S SECRET. 


97 


rule and your impatience under it.” There was a mix- 
ture of pique and vexation in his voice. “It is indeed 
trouble lost to attempt to suppress the restless, frivolous 
inclinations natural to you. Well, you shall have what 
you desire, but my task is not yet completed. I must 
tat attempt to discover your relatives.” 

“You had different views upon this point formerly,” 
interrupted Frau Hellwig contemptuously. 

“Those views have been changed by time and circum- 
stances, as you see, mother,” he replied. 

Felicitas was silent, and looked down. She knew that 
any such attempt would be without result. Aunt Cor- 
dula had proved that long ago. For years before she had 
instituted a search for the juggler, Orlowsky, or any of 
the relatives of his wife, in the columns of all the princi- 
pal papers of Germany — but without any success. Of 
course Felicitas could say nothing of this. 

“The necessary steps shall betaken to-day,” continued 
the Professor, — “two months must be consumed in these 
inquiries. For that space of time you will continue to 
occupy your position as my ward, and my mother’s ser- 
vant. If by the end of that time, none of your relatives 
have appeared, then ” 

“Then,” broke in Felicitas, “at the end of the proba- 
tion I shall entreat for an entire release from my present 
bonds.” 

“Ah, that sounds too harsh!” cried the Councillor’s 
widow angrily. “It would seem as if you had known 
only ill treatment and oppression in this peaceful Chris- 
tian household. What ingratitude!” 

“You believe, then, that you can do without further 
assistance from us?” asked the Professor, not heeding 
the young widow’s angry outbreak. 

“I am quite sure of it.” 

G 


9 


98 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


“Very well,” he said, shortly, after a moment’s silence, 
— “ after the lapse of two months you shall be free to go 
where yon choose, and do as you choose.” He turned 
away, and walked to the window. 

“You may go,” said Madame harshly. 

Felicitas left the room. 

“Eight weeks more of this struggle!” she whispered, 
as she went through the hall. “It is for life and death!” 


CHAPTER XII. 

Three days had passed since the Professor’s arrival. 
The monotonous life in the old merchant’s house had un- 
dergone a transformation, but the time had, most unex- 
pectedly, passed over Felicitas’ head very quietly. She 
breathed freely, and yet, strange to say, she had never 
felt more humiliated and wounded than at present. The 
Professor had not given himself any further trouble con- 
cerning her — he had apparently begun and concluded all 
notice of her in his first interview with her. He had 
sometimes passed her in the hall without seeing her, in- 
deed, at such times he had seemed very much annoyed, 
and the expression of annoyance on his countenance by 
no means beautified it. The cause of this annoyance was 
Madame’s persistence in sending for him to the sitting- 
room whenever visitors were present who wished to see 
him. He obeyed her summons, ’tis true, but he must 
have proved a most silent and unattractive addition to 
society. 

There were visitors every day whom Heinrich con- 
ducted up- stairs to the second story — patients — often 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 93 

miserable, poverty-stricken wretches — whom Frederika, 
at any other time, would have sent roughly from the 
door, — but to her great vexation, and indeed against 
Madame’s desire, they were now shown up the snowy, 
freshly-scrubbed stairs to the Professor’s room, where 
they always found admittance and a listener. The Pro- 
fessor had a great reputation as an oculist — he had 
effected several cures pronounced by some of his dis- 
tinguished brethren impossible — and thus the young 
man’s name had become widely known and famous. 

Frau Hell wig had ordered Felicitas to attend to the 
sweeping and dusting of her son’s room. The little apart- 
ment presented a changed aspect since it had received a 
tenant, — whereas it had once possessed a pleasant air of 
comfort, it now looked like the cell of a bare-footed friar. 
The gay chintz curtains had shared a kindred fate with 
the garlands, — they had been sacrificed to the Professor’s 
love of light, — several coarse, brilliantly-coloured battle 
pieces which had adorned the walls had been removed, 
and instead, just above the writing-table, hung a copper- 
plate engraving, rescued from some dark corner of the 
house, — an exquisite picture of a young mother wrapping 
her child tenderly in her own fur-lined cloak. The woollen 
cover of the table, and several embroidered cushions had 
been banished because they collected the dust, and upon 
another table, instead of the Parian statuettes which had 
formerly adorned the room, were most symmetrically 
arranged the Professor’s books. No curled leaves, no 
frayed corners, were to be found among them, and yet 
they had been well used. The bindings were excessively 
simple — and the colour of the back was an index to the 
language in which the book was written, — gray indicated 
the Latin tongue, brown the German, &c. “Exactly so 
tie would like to arrange human beings,” thought Felicb 


100 


THE OLD MAM' SELL J' S SECRET. 


tas bitterly, when she saw the books for the first tiue,— - 
“and woe to the one who is discontented with his colour!” 

In the morning the Professor drank his coffee with his 
mother and the Councillor’s widow, — then he retired to 
his room and studied until noon. He refused from the 
first the wine which Madame sent up for his refreshment, 
but a decanter of water was always placed upon his table. 
He seemed to have a repugnance to being waited upon, — 
he never used the bell. When the water in the decanter 
was no longer fresh he took the vessel down stairs and 
filled it himself. 

On the morning of the fourth day letters arrived for 
the Professor. Heinrich had gone out, and Felicitas was 
sent up-stairs with them. She lingered at the door, for 
some one was speaking in the room, a woman’s voice 
was just finishing, as it seemed, some long narration. 

“Dr. Boehm spoke to me about your son’s eyes,” said 
the Professor kindly, — “I will see what can be done for 
them.” 

“Ah, gracious Herr Professor, such a famous man as 
you 

“I must have none of that, my good woman,” — he in- 
terrupted her so harshly, that she stopped, terrified. “I 
will come to-morrow and examine his eyes,” he added, 
more gently. 

“But we are such poor people, — we cannot afford ” 

“My good woman, you have said that twice before,” 
interrupted the Professor, somewhat impatiently. “ Pray 
go now — I really have no more time. If I can help your 
son I certainly will. Good-by!” 

The woman came out, and Felicitas entered the room. 
The Professor sat at his writing-table, his pen was al- 
ready rapidly traversing the paper. But he had seen the 
young girl enter, and without lifting his eyes from his 


THE OLD MA M' SELL E ’ Jl SECRET 


10k 


work, stretched out his left hand for the letters. He 
broke the seal of one while Felicitas was returning to 
the door. 

“By-the-way,” he asked, without looking up from his 
letter, “who dusts this room?” 

“I do,” replied the young girl, standing still. 

“Well then I must request you to have a little more 
regard for my writing-table. It is very annoying to me 
not to find upon it the book which I want, and there is 
one now I cannot find.” 

Felicitas stepped composedly up to the table upon 
which were several piles of books. 

“What is the title of the book?” she inquired. 

Something like a smile broke over the Professor’s seri- 
ous features. Such a question in his study from girlish 
lips sounded strange and naive to the grave physician. 

“You will scarcely be able to find it — it is a French 
book, — ‘ Cruveilhier, Anatomie du Systkme Nerveux’ is 
printed upon the back,” he added with something like 
another smile. 

Felicitas immediately drew out a volume from under a 
pile of other French books. 

“Here it is,” she said, “it lay just where you yourself 
put it — I never take up one of these books.” 

The Professor rested his left elbow upon the table, and 
turning hastily round, looked the young girl full in the 
face. 

“Do you understand French?” he demanded. 

Felicitas was frightened; she had betrayed herself. 
She not only understood French, but spoke it with ease 
and fluency. The old Mam’selle had been a most thor- 
ough instructress. She must reply, and reply immedi- 
ately. The steel gray eyes gazed fixedly at her face, — . 

9 * 


102 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


they would detect the slightest prevarication, the truth 
must be told. 

“I have had lessons in French,” she answered. 

“Oh, yes, I remember, you studied until you were 
nine years old, — you have retained something of your 
lessons,” he said, thoughtfully, rubbing his forehead with 
his hand. 

Felicitas did not speak. 

“And this was the unfortunate circumstance that 
made my mother’s and my plans for you so utterly 
futile, — you had learned too much already, — and be- 
cause we entertained our own peculiar views upon the 
subject, you detest us as your oppressors, tormentors, 
and Heaven knows what beside. Do you not?” 

For one moment Felicitas struggled with herself, but 
her bitterness of soul conquered. The colour left her 
lips, and she said coldly: “I certainly have every reason 
to do so.” 

A frown of displeasure gathered upon his forehead, but 
perhaps he remembered how often, as a physician, he had 
been obliged to listen calmly to all kinds of fretful unkind 
replies from his patients. This young girl was mentally 
ill, he thought, and he only remarked with composure: 
“Well, I certainly from this moment acquit you entirely 
of the want of frankness of which you are accused. You 
are more than candid. For the rest we shall be able to 
console ourselves, in spite of the bad opinion you enter- 
tain of us.” 

He took up his letter again, and Felicitas left the room. 
As she stood upon the threshold of the open door, he 
glanced once more after her. The landing without was 
flooded with golden sunshine — the girl’s form as she left 
the darker room stood out like a painting upon a golden 
background. Her figure had not yet attained to that 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


103 


ripeness of perfection which a few years would bring,— 
but every outline was indescribably tender, and every 
movement full of grace, of that supple ease which fairy 
lore ascribes to the heroines of its legends. And what 
wonderful hair ! It would usually have been called chest- 
nut-brown, but when as now touched by the sunshine, it 
shimmered like red gold. It was not like that soft yellow 
hair which had fallen in such sparkling waves from under 
the helmet of the juggler’s beautiful wife. It was not 
yet very long, — but of immense thickness, and was with 
difficulty confined in ^ large knot at the back of the head. 
A rebellious curl would often as at present break loose 
from its bounds, and lie upon the white neck, just below 
the knot. 

The Professor turned to his work again, but the train 
of thought which had been first interrupted by the poor 
woman’s account of her son’s eyes, would not be pursued. 
He rubbed his forehead with an air of vexation, and 
drank a glass of water, — it was of no use. At last, out 
of humour with so many interruptions, he took up his 
hat and went down stairs. If the Saracen’s head in 
bronze, which had occupied the respectable position of 
penwiper to its learned master for so many years, could 
have opened its grinning mouth wider, it would certainly 
have done so with astonishment, — there lay the pen un- 
wiped; the Saracen might long in vain for the accus- 
tomed delight of polishing the inky point upon its well- 

I worn dress. Incredible! Its exact master must have 
been greatly disturbed. 

“Mother,” he said, as he passed by the door of her 
room, “pray, in future, do not send that young girl up to 
me upon any errand, — let Heinrich come, — if he v* not 
here at the moment, I can wait.” 

‘Aha!” replied Madame, in a tone of triumph ' In 


104 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


the course of three days the girl has become intolerable 
to you. Think what you have condemned me to for nine 
long years.” 

Her son shrugged his shoulders without speaking, and 
turned to go. 

“The instruction that she was receiving at the time of 
my father’s death ceased entirely when she entered the 
parish school, did it not?” he asked, looking back. 

“What a silly question, John!” said his mother, with 
vexation. “I am sure I wrote you minutely enough upon 
that subject, and told you distinctly all about it when I 
saw you in Bonn. The school-books were sold, and the 
exercise-books I burned myself.” 

“And who have been her associates ?” 

“Associates? Why, she has had none but Heinrich and 
Frederika; she would have none.” The cruel expression 
appeared on Madame’s features ; her upper lip contracted 
as it used to do, showing one of the upper teeth. “ I 
could not undergo the annoyance of having her sit at my 
table and in my room,” she continued. “ I could see in 
her only the cause of coldness and dissension between 
your father and myself, — and besides, each year she has 
become more disagreeable to me. But I tried to induce 
her to associate with two or three pious girls, — daughters 
of some of our truly Christian mechanics, — and you your- 
self know how entirely she refused to have anything to 
do with them, declaring that they were wolves in sheep’s 
clothing, or something of the kind. Oh, you’ll find out 
much in the course of these eight weeks with which you 
have burdened yourself.” 

The Professor left the house to take a long walk. 

On the afternoon of the same day Madame had invited 
several ladies, most of them strangers visiting the baths, 
to take coffee in the garden outside the town. Frederika 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


105 


was suddenly taken ill, wherefore Felicitas w^s sent to 
prepare everything for the guests. Her arrangements 
were soon concluded. Upon the smooth gravel in the 
shade of a high cypress wall stood the delicately ordered 
table, and in the kitchen of the summer-house in the gar- 
den the hot water was simmering over the fire, all ready 
to be converted into delicious coffee. Felicitas leaned 
against the open bow-window in the summer-house, and 
looked out in melancholy mood. Without, everything 
was as green and blooming in the quiet fragrant air as 
though no desolating autumn blast had ever swept through 
the branches of the trees, no wintry frost spun its glit- 
tering network over the shrubs and plants. And years 
before everything had been just as bright and fresh — de- 
lighting the eyes of him whose warm kindly heart had 
now mouldered away in the ground, — whose protecting 
helping hand had been stretched out wherever there was 
work for it to do, — among his flowers and plants as well 
as among his suffering fellow-men. The tender young 
flowers all around smiled as brightly into the faces of 
strangers, and he was forgotten. Hither he had brought 
the little orphan girl out of the reach of unkind tongues, 
not only in summer, but often in the early spring, when 
winter was resigning his sceptre reluctantly, and with 
many a struggle. A fire had been lighted in the summer- 
house, a warm carpet spread upon the floor, and they had 
passed many a cosy delicious hour here, when the swell- 
ing buds outside tapped against the warm window panes, 
upon which an obstinate snow-flake would melt into a 
trickling tear, — and through which, across the yet deso- 
late garden, could be seen the dear old mountain, half 
covered with snow, wearing its familiar crown of pop- 
lars. Ah, what precious memories these were! And just 
opposite were the chestnuts, — their luxuriant young 


106 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


leav2S not yet fully grown, hangingidly down, as though 
enervated by the golden sunlight. 

Approaching footsteps and the creaking of the garden 
gate startled Felicitas from her melancholy reverie 
Through the north window she perceived the Professor 
just entering the garden accompanied by another gentle- 
man. They walked slowly in the direction of the sum- 
mer-house. John’s companion was now a frequent visitor 
at Madame’s, — he was the son of a man who had been a 
dear friend of Herr Hellwig’s. Of like age with the Pro- 
fessor, he also had been educated by the strict and ortho- 
dox relative of the Hellwigs. on the Rhine. Both had 
been fellow-students at the University for a short time, 
and, although widely different in character and mode of 
life, they had always been friends. While John Hell wig 
had attained his professorial chair almost immediately 
after completing his University course, young Franz had 
spent his time in travelling until very recently, when, at 
his parents’ desire, he had returned to Germany, passed 
his legal examinations, and was now a lawyer here, in 
his native town, patiently awaiting cases and clients. 

Upon a nearer view, he was seen to possess great per- 
sonal beauty, — his form was elastic and vigorous, — his 
features were intellectual and expressive. His classically- 
shaped head, with the delicate Greek profile, might have 
seemed almost feminine in outline, had not the masculine 
grace of carriage, the strength and vigour of movement, 
which characterized its possessor, fully redeemed it from 
any such charge. 

He took the cigar from his lips, examined it for a mo- 
ment, and then tossed it aside. The Professor produced 
his cigar-case and handed it to him. 

“ Oh, not for the world I” cried his friend, putting up 
his hands with a comical gesture of refusal. “ How could 


THE OLD MAM'SELLES SECRET. 


107 


I dream of robbing those miserable Lttle heathen in tne 
Sandwich Islands, — and Heaven knows where else be- 
side 1” 

The Professor smiled. 

“As far as I know,” continued the other, “ you have 
persevered until now in the heroic work of self-renun- 
ciation which you initiated ten years ago. I remember 
you allowed yourself three cigars a day, but you only 
smoked one, and devoted the worth in money of the other 
two to the missionary fund. ” 

“I have preserved the habit,” said his friend, with a 
quiet smile, — “but the money is differently appropriated, 
— it all belongs to my needy patients.” 

“ Impossible ! you — the sturdy, determined defender of 
all pious projects for the salvation of the heathen ! — the 
foremost among the pupils of our despot on the Rhine 1 
Is this your devotion to his precepts? Apostate 1” 

The Professor shrugged his shoulders. He paused, and 
thoughtfully brushed the ashes from the end of his cigar. 

“As a physician, my views of mankind and of my du- 
ties to them as an individual have undergone a radical 
change,” said he. “ I could not hope even imperfectly to 
fulfil my desire to be of some use in the world without 
forgetting and unlearning much.” 

They walked on, and their voices died away. But the 
sun lay hot and scorching upon the gravel path down 
which they slowly wandered, and instinctively they turned 
back to the stone-paved walk near the house, which was 
sheltered by the thick foliage of a group of acacias. 

“It is of no use,” Felicitas heard the Professor s^y 
rather more quickly than was his wont. “You cam>ot 
change me in this. I am just as much bored in the society 
of women now as I used to be years ago, and, to tell you 
the truth, my intercourse as a physician with the fair sox. 


108 


TEE OLD M .UP SELLERS SECRET. 


as it is called, has by no means tended to modify my 
former opinions with regard to them. What a combina- 
tion of frivolity and want of character I” 

“Of course you are bored in women’s society,” Franz 
declared, pausing beneath the bow-window. “You dili- 
gently seek the society only of the most ignorant and 
simple, not to say silly, women. You detest modern 
female education, sometimes ’tis true with some show of 
reason. I am not going to defend ignorant strumming of 
the keys of a piano, or silly, broken French, but there is 
another side to the question. At the present time, when 
the masculine intellect is continually exploring new and 
untried paths, enjoying and participating in the impetus 
which science of all kinds has received in this century, 
you wish, if possible, to confine women behind the barriers 
placed before them during the middle ages — to deny their 
intellectual power a wider range than is accorded to their 
servants — this is not only unjust, but pure folly. Why, 
women have the souls of your sons in their hands, and at 
a time, too, when they are most easily influenced, pliable 
as wax, ready to receive impressions which they will re- 
tain with the tenacity of iron. Incite women to serious 
thought, enlarge the circle in which you, egotist that you 
are, have confined them, and which you call ‘feminine 
vocations,’ and you will soon see vanity and wrnnt of 
character disappear.” 

“That course I shall most certainly not pursue, my 
dear friend!” said the Professor sarcastically, and slowly 
walked on a few steps. 

“I know perfectly well that you differ from me. You 
think every requirement for a wife and mother can be ful- 
filled by a religious woman. My revered Professor, I, too, 
would choose a religious wife. A woman without religion 
is a flower without fragrance. But I pray you, take care 


TIIE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


109 


You think her notable, well brought up, and religious , 
and while you leave all things to her in charge with an 
easy conscience, a tyranny is established in your home, 
against which you would rebel instantly were it not ex- 
ercised by so religious a woman. Behind the mask of 
religion are too often concealed the evil tendencies which 
peculiarly beset the feminine nature. One can, even in the 
smallest sphere, be cruel, revengeful, and haughtily dis- 
dainful, — condemning and destroying in blind zeal much 
that is beautiful and elevating, — all in the name of the 
Lord, and in what is called the interest cf the kingdom 
of God.” 

“You go very far.” 

“Not too far. I know you will come to see that the 
intellectual capacity must be refined and cultivated, and 
the soul made open to the claims of humanity, before the 
religion of a woman can have the beneficent power that 
it should have in the world.” 

“These are, at all events, considerations that I have 
no inclination to pursue,” rejoined the Professor coldly. 
“Science so entirely engrosses me and my life ” 

“Aha! and she ?” — his friend interrupted him in a low 
tone, pointing towards the entrance of the garden. There 
behind the grating appeared the Councillor’s widow, with 
her child and Madame. “Is she not the actual realization 
of your ideal?” he continued with undisguised irony. 
“Simple, — she dresses always in white muslin, — which, 
by-the-way, is extremely becoming to her, — religious, — 
who can doubt it who has seen her in church with her 
lovely blue eyes cast up to Heaven? She detests all 
science, study, and meditation, because they would hinder 
the progress of her knitting or embroidery. She is your 
equal in rank, which you know is also one of your indis- 
10 


110 


THE OLD MAM’ SELLERS SECRET. 


pensable requisitions for a happy marriage, — in short, 

every one supposes that she is the one destined ” 

“You are ill natured, and never liked Adele,” inter- 
rupted the Professor hastily. “And I am afraid it is 
because her father was such a strick disciplinarian. She 
is sweet tempered, gentle, and an excellent mother.” 

He walked slowly towards the ladies, who were ap- 
proaching, and saluted them courteously. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Before long the garden walks were enlivened by 
graceful female figures, who, dressed in muslins and 
gauzes, hovered about like white summer clouds. The 
stiff dark cypress wall, before which the table was spread, 
made a charming background for the airy fluttering 
figures; silvery laughter and gay feminine conversation 
floated out upon the air, diversified now and then by 
sonorous manly voices. The guests were soon all as- 
sembled around the table, and the ladies produced their 
embroidery. 

At a sign from Madame, Pelicitas approached the table 
with the coffee-tray. 

“ My motto is ‘ simple and cheap,”’ she heard the Coun- 
cillor’s widow say, as she drew near. “In summer I 
never wear a dress that costs more than three thalers.” 

“But you forget, my dear,” said a rather over-dressed 
young lady, looking suspiciously at the other’s boasted 
simple attire, “that you trim this simple material with 
quantities of insertion and edging, which certainly must 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


Ill 


increase the price of the dress to three times its original 
cost.” 

“Ah, who would think of prosaic thalers in connection 
with this lovely floating stuff!” cried Franz, enjoying the 
malicious glances which the two ladies were interchang- 
ing. “It looks airy enough to waft the wearers to 
heaven, were it not for — yes, were it not for such heavy 
golden bracelets as that one for example, which must in- 
evitably drag its fair possessor to earth again.” 

As he spoke his eyes rested with evident interest upon 
the wrist of the Councillor’s widow, who was sitting very 
near him, but who, upon his last remark, started involun- 
tarily, while for a moment a deep blush suffused her 
cheeks and brow. 

“Do you know, most gracious lady,” he said, “that 
for the last half hour I have been irresistibly attracted 
by your bracelet? It is of such superb antique work- 
manship. My curiosity is especially excited by the in- 
scription that I can just distinguish, surrounded by that 
charming wreath.” 

The countenance of the young widow had regained its 
usual lovely colour, — she raised her placid blue eyes, 
quietly unclasped the bracelet, and handed it to him. 

Felicitas was standing just behind young Franz. She 
could distinctly see the bracelet which he held. Oddly 
enough it was in every respect exactly similar to the one 
lying in the old Mam’selle’s secret drawer, except that it 
was much smaller — indeed it was rather tight for the 
young widow’s wrist. 

das ir liebe ist ane kranc 
Die hat got jesamme geben 
uf ein wunneclichez leben, 

read Franz, with fluency. “Strange!” he cried, “the 


112 


THE OLD MAM'S EL LE'S SECRET. 


verse has no beginning. Oh, I remember it, it is a quo 
tation from one of the old Minnesingers — a verse from 
Ulrich von Lichtenstein’s ‘Constant Love,’ — the whole 
verse is translated — 

"Where’er love with love requited 
Dwells in two hearts fond and true, 

And where both are so united 
That this love is always new, 

God to these two hearts has given 
Bliss indeed, for love is heaven. 

“This bracelet has doubtless a faithful companion 
closely connected with it by the beginning of the verse,” 
he remarked, with lively interest. “Does its companion 
not belong to you also?” 

“No,” replied the Councillor’s widow, as she bent over 
her embroidery, while the bracelet was passed from hand 
to hand around the circle. 

“And where did you get such a remarkable and ex- 
quisite piece of workmanship, Adele?” asked the Profes- 
sor, across the table. 

Again the young widow blushed slightly. 

“Papa made me a present of it a little while ago,” she 
answered. “Heaven only knows how far back its an- 
tiquity can be traced 1” 

She took the ornament, clasped it upon her wrist, and 
turning to the lady next her, addressed a remark to her 
which effectually changed the current of conversation. 

While universal attention had been occupied with the 
interesting bracelet, Felicitas had made the round of the 
table — every one had been helped from her tray with- 
out bestowing a glance upon the person who carried it. 
She was returning to the summer-house entirely unob- 
served. At the request of little Anna, who was limping 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


113 


about in the shady walk in front of the house, she stopped 
for a moment, and lifting her arms, and bending back her 
head, caught at one of the hanging boughs of an acacia, 
and tried to break off a small branch for the child. For 
a female figure faultless in outline, there is no more ad- 
vantageous position than the one thus taken uncon- 
sciously, and which she retained for several moments. 
Young Franz hastily raised his eyeglass — he was slightly 
near-sighted, — and his dark eyes were riveted with evi- 
dent astonishment upon the youthful form beneath the 
acacia; he was in his turn keenly observed by the Coun- 
cillor’s widow, although she was apparently absorbed in 
her embroidery. When Felicitas disappeared within the 
house Franz dropped his eyeglass and was turning to 
Madame, evidently with a question upon his tongue, when 
the young widow interposed with some inquiry concern- 
ing an accident which he had met with while travelling, 
thus enlisting his attention upon a subject in which he 
was, of course, much interested. 

Soon afterwards she arose noiselessly, and went across 
to the summer-house. 

“ Dear Caroline,” she said, entering the kitchen, “there 
is no necessity for your bringing out more coffee. F'll up 
the coffee-pot, — I see here is an excellent coffee wanner, 
— and I will carry it across to the table and pour it out 
myself — it will be more convenient for our guests, and, 
to tell you the truth, you are not fit to be seen in that 
faded chintz dress. How can you come into the presence 
of gentlemen in that ugly short skirt? It is scarcely de- 
cent — do you not see it yourself, child?” 

The despised skirt was the best which Felicitas pos- 
sessed — her holiday-dress. It w T as certainly worn and 
faded, but it was faultlessly clean, and smoothly ironed. 
That she should be reproved for what she had silently and 
II 10* 


Ill 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


uncomplainingly submitted to made her smile bitterly, — 
but any word of self-justification would have been super- 
fluous, and in this case ridiculous. 

When the young widow returned to the table, she 
found the conversation which she had tried to prevent in 
full play. 

“ Strikingly beautiful?” repeated Madame, laughingdis- 
cordantly. “Fie, my dear Franz, I cannot believe you 
think so. Striking , I grant you, but not in a way that is 
becoming to any young girl. Look closer at that pale face 
and odd hair. That forward manner, those careless ges- 
tures — the eyes which stare you in the face with such un- 
blushing boldness, are all inherited from an incorrigibly 
depraved mother. — Like begets like — let the root be rot- 
jn and the bush will show it. Oh, I know it well — for 
aine long years I have spared no pains in endeavouring 
to reclaim this soul to the Lord — but the obstinate girl 
has defied and defeated all my efforts!” 

“Ah, dear aunt, it will soon be over,” said the Council- 
lor’s widow, soothingly, as she was pouring out the coffee. 
“ Only a few weeks longer, and she will leave your house 
forever. I am indeed afraid that the good seed has fallen 
upon stony ground. There can be no pious aspirations in 
a soul which has always ungratefully rebelled against 
the restraint imposed by strict morality and decorous cus- 
toms. But still we who are fortunate in being w^ell born 
should not judge her too severely; there is levity in her 
blood. If you should travel again in future years, Herr 
Franz,” she said, jestingly, to the young man, “you may 
one day chance to meet with this former member of aunt’s 
household beneath strange skies — and admire her as an 
ornament to the tight-rope or the circus.” 

“She does not look in the least like it,” said the Pro- 
fessor suddenly, in a clear, decided voice. Untd now he 


TI1E OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET. 


115 


had been remarkably silent, his dissenting remark was, of 
course, most striking. Madame turned towards him sur- 
prised and angry, and the young widow lost her stereo- 
typed gentleness, but, nevertheless, she shook her curls 
with a smile, and opened her lips — in the act, of course, 
of saying something kind and loving — when she was pre- 
vented by the loud cries of her little girl. She turned, 
and at the sight which met her eyes, uttered a shrill 
shriek of horror. The child was running towards her 
mother as steadily as her poor little limbs would allow 
her — in her right hand she held tightly clasped in her 
terror a box of lucifer matches — her dress was in flames. 
We have said that the mother uttered a shriek of terror; 
— with one glance downward at the light inflammable 
material of which her own dress was composed, her pres- 
ence of mind forsook her. She stretched out her arms, 
as if to defend herself from her child, and, with a leap, 
vanished behind the protecting cypress wall. The airily 
dressed ladies .scattered like frightened doves in every 
direction with shrieks of terror. Madame alone bravely 
followed the two gentlemen to the child’s assistance, but 
they were too late, Felicitas was already upon the spot — 
she wrapped her dress tightly around the child and tried 
to smother the flames — but they were too strong, the 
thin chintz dress caught fire, the young girl was in immi- 
nent danger. 

With hasty but quiet decision, she seized the child in 
her arms, ran across the lawn, up the side of the dam, 
and plunged into the swollen brook. 

The deadly peril and the swift rescue had occupied but 
very few moments; before the two gentlemen had even 
divined her purpose as she flew past them, the fire was 
extinguished — they reached the dam just as Felicitas had 
regained her footing, and, with the child held on her right 


11G THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S secret. 

arm, was seizing upon the bough of a hazel bush with her 
left hand, that she might steady herself against the rush 
of water which was quite violent just at this spot. With 
the gentlemen, the Councillor’s widow also appeared upon 
the dam. 

“My child! — my Anna! Save my child!” she cried, in 
accents of despair. She really seemed about to run into 
the water. 

“Don’t wet your feet,. Adele, you might catch cold,” 
said the Professor to her, with cutting irony, as he quickly 
descended the side of the dam, and from the bank of the 
stream extended both hands to Felicitas; but they fell 
at his side again, for the hitherto quiet expression on the 
girl’s face underwent a sudden transformation, the deep 
wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows, and she cast 
upon him that deadly cold, hostile glance which he already 
knew. Turning away her head, she gave little Anna into 
his arms, and then accepting, with a faint smile of ac- 
knowledgment, the hand which Franz extended to her, she 
sprang upon the dam. 

The Professor carried the child into the summer-house, 
accompanied by its distressed mother, and there it under- 
went a thorough examination for the purpose of discover- 
ing its probable injuries, but, strange to say, it had escaped 
almost unhurt — no burns were found except on the left 
hand, where, as the weeping child now related, the mis- 
chief had originated. The little girl, while her mother 
was in the kitchen, had taken the box of matches from the 
table — as she was lighting one in the garden outside a 
piece of linen which had been tied around her finger for 
some trifling scratch, caught fire ; she tried to wipe off the 
flame upon the skirt of her dress, and thus the disaster 
bad occurred. 

Tbe terrified ladies now one and all returned. Sympa- 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS* S SECRET. 


lit 


thy for the mother and rescued child and congratulations 
resounded from all sides, and the ‘little angel’ was loaded 
with caresses. 

“But, my dear Caroline,” said the Councillor’s widow, 
in a tone of gentle reproof to the young girl who stood 
near her, anxiously awaiting the result of the examina- 
tion, — “could not you have taken some care of Anna 
when she was playing in the garden?” 

The reproach was too unjust. 

“You had a few moments before forbidden me to leave 
the house,” replied Felicitas coldly,— a blush of vexation 
rose to her cheek, and she looked fixedly at her reprover. 

“Indeed, — and what was that for, Adele?” asked Frau 
Hell wig, in some surprise. 

“ Heavens 1 aunt,” replied the young widow, without 
any sign of embarrassment, — “you can easily understand 
it if you will look at that hair. I wished to spare her 
and ourselves the shame of the impression which such 
neglect must produce.” 

Felicitas hastily put up her hands to her head ; she was 
conscious of having arranged her hair with great care, — . 
but the comb, which could never be made to sit firmly 
among the rebellious waves, had slipped out, — it was 
probably lying at the bottom of the brook. The wondrous 
loosened masses lay thick upon her shoulders with shining 
drops of water scattered like pearls here and there among 
them. 

“Is this all the gratitude that you display to the hand 
which has carried your child unharmed through fire and 
water, most gracious lady?” asked the young lawyer, 
with some feeling. Until now he had been gazing at Fe- 
licitas. 

“How can you do me such injustice, Herr Franz?” re- 
monstrated the young widow, much offended. “How in- 


158 THE OLD MAM’ SELLERS SECRET. 

comprehensible to a man are the workings of maternal 
tenderness! At first the mother involuntarily turns with 
reproach towards any one who has caused misfortune to 
her child by neglect, although she thankfully admits that 
such neglect is atoned for by its subsequent rescue. My 
dear Caroline,” she turned to the young girl, “I shall 
never forget what you have done for me to-day. I wish 
1 could prove my gratitude to you upon the spot!” Then, 
as if yielding to a sudden impulse, she unclasped the 
bracelet from her wrist and held it out to the young girl. 
“Take this, I beg of you, I value it highly, but what is 
any sacrifice worth in comparison with my little daugh- 
ter’s preservation?” 

Felicitas, deeply wounded, repelled the hand which 
would have placed the ornament upon her arm. 

“I thank you,” she said, with that haughty motion of 
her head which her pious employers found so indescrib- 
ably unbecoming in the player’s ch^ild. “I could never 
receive a reward for fulfilling a simple duty to a fellow- 
creature, still less do I feel inclined to accept any sacri- 
fice. You say that I have simply atoned for neglect, 
and therefore, Madame, you can be under no obligations 
to me.” 

Frau Hellwig had already taken the bracelet from the 
Councillor’s widow. 

“What are you thinking of, Adele?” she said, with 
some vexation, — “what could the girl do with such a 
thing as this? Give her a dress of good strong gingham 
that will be of some service to her, and that will be quite 
enough!” 

When she had finished speaking, the young lawyer left 
the loom. He went for his hat, and came up to the open 
window, against which Felicitas was leaning. 

“I think that we are one and all behaving most cruelly 


TEE OLD MAM'SELLE’S SECRET 


119 


to you!” he said to her. “In the first place, we insult 
you by -the offer of paltry gold, and then let you stand 
there in your wet clothes. I am going to hurry to the 
town and send out everything that is necessary for you 
and the little incendiary.” 

He bowed and departed. 

“He is a fool!” said Frau Hellwig angrily to the ladies 
around, who were looking with ill-concealed regret after 
his retreating figure. 

The Professor, busied with the child’s examination, had 
not lost a single word of the foregoing conversation ; and 
one standing near him would have seen how, from the 
moment when the young widow had offered the bracelet 
to Felicitas, his features had been suffused by a deep 
flush. Certainly, as a physician, he would find no favour 
with ladies, — he was not at all adapted to the study of 
those wonderfully refined and subtle ailments to which 
the feminine nature is so liable. He was frightfully 
straightforward in his dealings with the fair sex. It was 
so natural that all present should have been frightened 
nearly to death by the child’s deadly peril, and should 
heap question upon question that they might be assured 
of its safety, and satisfied as to the probable consequences, 
— yet to these questions, put in tones of such touching 
sensibility and sympathy, he returned only the shortest, 
driest answers — nay, to one or two fair ones, who were 
most tenderly solicitous, he actually replied with sarcasm. 

At last, wrapping the child in a thick warm shawl, he 
left her to the tender care which all were waiting to be- 
stow upon her, and walked towards the door. Felicitas 
had retired to the farthest corner of the room; there she 
thought herself entirely free frofn observation. With 
her shoulders slightly contracted, she was leaning against 
the wail, her face was deadly pale, and the fixed expres- 


120 


TEE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


sion of her dark eyes and her compressed lips showed 
that she was suffering acute physical pain. She had a 
considerable burn upon her arm which was smarting most 
severely. 

As he was closing the door behind him, the Professor 
glanced once more searchingly around the room, his gaze 
encountered Felicitas, — he paused — looked fixedly at her 
for a moment, and then approached her hurriedly. 

“Are you in pain?” he asked quickly. 

“I can bear it,” she replied, with trembling lips which 
closed again convulsively. 

“You are burnt?” 

“Yes, on my arm.” Spite of her suffering she wished 
to repulse all assistance, and turned away her head to- 
wards the window. She would not for the world meet 
those eyes which since her childhood she had so dreaded. 
He hesitated for a moment, but the sense of his duty as 
a physician conquered. 

“Will you not allow me to help you?” he asked, very 
slowly, and with great gentleness. 

“I will not trouble you,” she coldly replied. “I can 
do everything for myself as soon as I go back to town.” 

“As you please,” he said. “But I would have you 
remember that my mother still has some claim upon your 
time and strength. For which reason you should not 
wilfully make yourself ill.” While he spoke this last 
sentence he avoided looking at Felicitas. 

“I do not forget that,” she answered, with less feeling, 
- -she understood perfectly well that he had reminded her 
of her duties, not to humiliate her in any way, but evi- 
dently to induce her to accept of his surgical aid. “ I 
thoroughly understand my position here,” she added, 
“and you will find me till the last moment at the post as- 
signed me.” 


THE OLD MAM’SELLE'S SECRET. 


121 


“Well, is your medical skill required here, John?” 
asked the Councillor’s widow, approaching them. 

“No,” he said curtly, “but what are you doing here 
still, Adele ? I told you before that Anna should be taken 
into the fresh air, and I cannot imagine why you insist 
upon keeping her shut up in this close room.” 

He went out of the door, and the young widow taking 
her child in her arms, and accompanied by the rest of the 
ladies, followed him. Madame was already seated quietly 
again at the table. Since the last row of her knitting had 
been completed, the lives of two human beings had trem- 
bled in the scale between time and eternity, but such a 
circumstance had no power to disturb the balance of mind 
which was the result of iron nerves and a determined 
will. 

At last Heinrich appeared with the necessary gar- 
ments. The honest fellow had run so fast that the per- 
spiration stood in beads upon his forehead. 

Shortly afterward Rosa came to the garden, and Frau 
Hellwig allowed Felicitas to return to the town. She 
knew that Aunt Cordula had in her well-stocked medi- 
cine-chest a most excellent salve for burns, and therefore 
while Heinrich kept watch below, she hastened up to the 
rooms under the roof. While the old Mam’selle, much 
shocked, brought out the cooling ointment and tenderly 
bound up the burnt arm, Felicitas related the whole oc- 
currence. She spoke quickly and nervously. Physical 
pain and agitation of mind had excited her feverishly. 
Yet the girl’s strong will subdued her passionate excite- 
ment, until Aunt Cordula gently observed that she ought 
not to have rejected John’s medical aid, and then the last 
barrier of her carefully preserved self-control was swept 
away. 

“No, aunt!” she cried suddenly, “his hand shall never 

11 


122 


THE OLD HAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


touch me, even to save me from instant death The 
class to which by birth I belong is 1 unspeakably odious 
to him.’ That declaration from his lips once wounded 
my childish heart mortally, I shall never forget it. To-day 
his sense of duty as a physician overcame for a moment 
his aversion to the Pariah. I require and will accept no 
such sacrifice from him!” 

She stopped exhausted, and showed in her face the 
pain which her arm was giving her. 

“ He is not without compassion,” she continued after a • 
pause, “I know that he denies himself luxuries for the 
sake of his poor patients. In any other man constant 
self-denial and quiet kindness would have power to touch 
me deeply, but here they excite me as the knowledge of 
crime in another would. I know how mean and degrad- 
ing an admission this is, aunt, I know it well, but I can- 
not help it — it causes me great pain, it makes me very 
angry to see anything admirable in the man whom I shall 
detest to all eternity!” 

And now having entirely lost for the moment her firm 
foothold of reserve and self-control, she complained for 
the first time most bitterly of the heartless conduct of 
the young widow. That peculiar hectic glow faintly ap- 
peared on the old Mam’selle’s cheek. 

“No wonder — is she not Paul Hellwig’s daughter?” — 
she interposed. There was the sternest disapproval ex- 
pressed in these few words uttered gently but most 
decisively. Felicitas listened with surprise. Never be- 
fore had Aunt Cordula made the faintest allusion to any 
member of the Hellwig family, — she had received the 
news of the arrival of the Councillor’s widow in silence 
and with apparent utter indifference, so that Felicitas 
had concluded that she had never in her life had any in* 
tercourse with the family upon the Rhine. 


TL'E OLD MAM’ SELLERS SECRET. 


123 


“Frau Hellwig calls him one of the chosen of the 
Lord, an unwearied labourer in the vineyard of the true 
faith,” the young girl said, with some hesitation, after a 
short pause. “He must be a stern devotee; one of those 
zealots who live strictly according to the letter, and feel 
themselves justified in judging harshly the failings and 
faults of their fellow-men.” 

Felicitas heard here a strange low laugh. The old 
Mam'selle’s features were of that peculiar kind concern- 
ing which it never occurs to us to ask, ‘Are they ugly or 
beautiful?’ The refreshing expression of feminine gentle- 
ness, and the delicacy of an intellectual nature mediate 
between the stern requirements of the laws of beauty 
and the irregularity of nature, — where the line of beauty 
fails expression completes the effect — but for this very 
reason, this style of face grows almost unrecognizable, 
as soon as its accustomed harmony is disturbed. At this 
moment Aunt Cordula looked positively uncanny; her 
laugh was a laugh of scorn, although low and smoth- 
ered, there was something Medusa-like in the look of 
bitterness and contempt which for one instant swept 
across her face, usually so quiet and loving. This low 
laugh with the strange change in the old Mam’selle’s 
face, threw for one moment a faint reflex light upon her 
past life, but no guiding thread appeared in the dark 
w T eb, and she now exerted herself to destroy any impres- 
sion which her momentary self-forgetfulness might have 
made upon Felicitas. 

Upon the large round table in the centre of the room 
lay several open portfolios. Felicitas well knew the 
sheets and slips of paper that were scattered about upon 
the table. Many an illustrious name — Handel, Gluck, 
Haydn and Mozart — was inscribed, often in almost un- 
intellig ble hieroglyphics, upon those yellow pages — it 


124 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET. 


was Aunt Cordula’s autographic collection of celebrated 
composers. When Eelicitas entered the room the old 
Mam’selle had been arranging papers, which, having lain 
year after year behind the glass doors of the antique 
cabinet, exhaled a strong odour of mould. She now 
quietly went on with her work, putting the papers most 
carefully away in the portfolios. The table was gradually 
cleared, and a thick book of manuscript music appeared. 
Upon the title-page was written: “Music for the ope- 
retta of ‘ The wisdom of the magistracy in the institution 
of breweries,’ by Johann Sebastian Bach.” 

The old Mam’selle laid her finger significantly upon 
the name of the composer: “You have never seen that 
before, have you, Eay?” she asked, with a melancholy 
smile. “That has been lying for many years in the top 
drawer of my secret cabinet. This morning all sorts of 
thoughts have been chasing each other through my old 
brain — their meaning being that it is time to prepare for 
my going home, and among my preparations this book 
belongs in the red portfolio. It is the only copy in ex- 
istence, and is well worth its weight in gold, my dear 
Eay. 

“The libretto of this operetta, written expressly for 

our little town of X , in the dialect of the place, was 

discovered nearly twenty years ago, and created some 
stir in the musical world on account of the music belong- 
ing to it which was supposed to have been composed by 
Bach — but which was nowhere to be found. This com- 
position, for which search is still made, lies here. These 
melodies, which have been sleeping here upon paper for 
more than a century, are for musicians a sort of Nibelun- 
gen treasure, especially as they are the only genuine 
opera airs that Bach ever composed. In 1705, the schol- 
ars of the puli lie school here, and some of the tow ns’ folk, 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET. 125 

brought out the operetta, and it was played in the old 
town-hall.” 

£he turned over the title-page, and upon the other side 
was written in a delicate hand, ‘ The MS. composition 
of Johann Sebastian Bach, written by his own hand, and 
received from him as a remembrance, in the year IT 07. 
Gottheif v. Hirschsprung.’ “He sung in the operetta,” 
she saict in a voice that vibrated audibly, pointing to the 
last name. 

“And t»ow did this book come into your possession, 
aunt?” 

“It was, a legacy,” replied Aunt Cordula shortly, 
almost harshly, as she put the partitur into the red port- 
folio. 

At such moments it was quite impossible to continue 
a conversation w^hich the old Mam’selle wished to break 
off. There was at these times such a decided and dig- 
nified reserve expressed in every line and motion of the 
feeble little figure that only utter want of tact and im- 
pertinent curiosity could proceed. Felicitas cast a long- 
ing glance at the vanishing MSS., the melodies which no 
one living except Aunt Cordula possessed excited in her 
the intensest interest, but she did not venture to ask for 
a sight of them, as she had also previously refrained in 
her account of the afternoon’s occurrences from all men- 
tion of the bracelet; for the world she would not for the 
second time have touched a chord in her kind friend’s 
memory which vibrated so painfully. 

The old Mam’selle opened the glass doors, and Felicitas 
stepped out upon the balcony. The sun was setting. Over 
the distant landscape hovered what seemed like sparkling 
floating golden dust, dazzling the eye and mingling the 
indistinct outlines upon the horizon of earth and heaven. 
Like grain flung from the hand of the sower, long rays of 
11 * 


126 


THE OLD MAM' SEL. E'S SECRET. 


light were flung from the setting sun, tipping with ruddy 
gold the summits of the mountain forests and the blos- 
som-laden orchards in the valley. Single sections of 
country stood out revealed by the fading rays amid the 
gathering gloom around, like new and sudden thoughts 
in some human brain. The little village whose outlying 
cottages were boldly climbing the mountain’s side lay hid 
in the shadow, but upon its high-pointed church spire the 
round ball gleamed brilliantly, as though played about 
by lightning, and the open doors of the houses revealed 
the red light of the fire on the hearths where the humble 
evening meal was preparing. The delicious calm of 
evening brooded over everything, and up here the flowers 
exhaled their intoxicating fragrance, which in the intense 
quiet of the air hung caressingly around the vine leaves, 
yet faint from the warm sun. Sometimes a clumsy 
May beetle would fall clattering upon the floor of the 
gallery, or a pair of swallows whirr twittering past to 
their nest, — nothing else disturbed the solemn repose of 
nature. And now the chords of Beethoven’s funeral 
march rang out from the music-room into the stillness 
with an indescribable effect, but after the first few bars, 
Felicitas raised her head and cast a startled glance back 
into the room. Could those sounds come from the piano 
within? The whispering dying tones fell upon the young 
girl’s ear with the force of a mysterious warning from the 
spirit world. Ah, the hands gliding over the keys were 
weary, weary unto death ; and those tones which they 
called forth were the flutterings of the long-caged spirit 
sighing to be free forever 1 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


127 


CHAPTER XIV. 

The adventures by fire and flood were not without 
evil consequences. During the night the child was at- 
tacked by catarrh fever, and Felicitas awoke next morn- 
ing with a severe headache. Nevertheless she attended 
to all her customary duties with her usual diligence, — 
her wounded arm was not very painful, for the healing 
ointment had worked well during the night. 

In the afternoon the Professor came home. He had 
just performed successfully an operation upon the eyes 
of one of his patients, which no physician had ventured 
hitherto to undertake. In his gait and carriage the usual 
quiet assured self-reliance was observable, — the colour in 
his cheeks was not a shade deeper than usual, but those 
who knew him intimately, might well wonder at the un- 
wonted fire that burned in his eyes underneath the strong 
bushy eyebrows, — those usually cold steel gray eyes, 
which seemed made only to search closely into the very 
souls of others, could then, at certain moments, flash and 
glow with genial sympathy and heartfelt satisfaction. 

He stood at the door of the court-yard, and asked 
Frederika, who was just coming into the house with a 
bucket of water, whether her illness of yesterday had 
passed away. 

“Oh, I am quite well again, Herr Professor,” she said, 
putting down the bucket, “but the girl there,” — pointing 
across the court to the windows of a room upon the 
ground floor of the house, — “Caroline, I am sure, caught 
something yesterday in all that fire and water. I could 
scarcely sleep a wink last night, — she talked so loud in 


128 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


her sleep, — and to-day she is going about with such a 
heavy head, and with a face the colour of scarlet, 
and ” 

“You ought to have told me before, Frederika,” inter- 
rupted the Professor sternly. 

“I did tell Madame; but she said it would soon pass 
over. Caroline has never had a doctor in her life since 
she came here, and she has grown up strong enough. 
Hank weeds grow apace, Herr Professor. There is no 
use in trying to be kind to her,” — she added, as she re- 
marked a gathering cloud upon her hearer’s face, — “ she 
has always ever since she was a little child, been an ob- 
stinate thing, behaving herself as though she were a 
king’s daughter, — she, a player girl ! Often when I have 
baked or cooked up something particularly good for 
Madame, I have set aside some of it for her. I always 
think of others, sir! But do you suppose she ever 
touched it? Not a bit of it. I always had to give it to 
some one else. You see, Herr Professor, she has been 
this way from childhood. She has never eaten half 
enough since our old master died, — ’tis a wonder to me 
that she has grown up so tall. And it is all because of 
her obstinacy and evil-minded arrogance, — she does not 
wish to accept anything from anybody. Did I not hear 
her with my own ears telling Heinrich, that when she 
had once left this horrible house she would work her 
fingers to the bone and send all that she earned to 
Madame, until every penny that she had cost, every 
mouthful of bread that she had eaten here, was well paid 
for?” 

The old cook had not observed how, while she was 
pouring out her heart in this way, her auditor’s face had 
been more and more deeply dyed with crimson, until, 
scarcely waiting for the conclusion of the last sentence, 


THE OLD MAM’ BELLE’S SECRET. 


129 


without replying a word he strode across the court-yard 
towards the window which she had pointed out to him 
It was a high bow-window cut in the stone, opening 
nearly on the ground, and belonged to the room in which 
Frederika and Felicitas slept. It was open at present, 
and through it were plainly seen the bare whitewashed 
walls and clumsy scanty furniture; it was the same small 
dreary room in which the child of four years of age had 
sobbed through her first night of childish longing for her 
mother. There she was now at the window — the obsti- 
nate outcast — who would not even satisfy her hunger 
in this hated house — who would work her fingers to the 
bone that she might free herself from all obligation — 
there was pride which she had preserved with even mas- 
culine determination in the midst of daily humiliations, 
and a soul inspired by indomitable energy and inex- 
haustible power, all existing in that fair young creature 
now apparently sleeping the lovely careless sleep of a 
child. Her head was resting upon her arm, which was 
lying upon the window-sill; the snowy forehead and the 
glittering splendour of the hair contrasting strangely 
with the gray stone. The pure profile with the lips softly 
closed and the depression of the corners of the mouth 
wore an expression of innocence and gentle melancholy; 
the eyes which could flash out such bitter hate and defi- 
ance were closed, their long dark lashes resting upon her 
cheeks. 

The Professor advanced noiselessly and regarded her 
for a moment in silence, standing immovably by the win- 
dow, — then he bent over her. 

“ Felicitas !” his vniee was gentle and full of kindly 
sympathy. 

She started up and gazed incredulously into the eyes 
which were fixed upon her; her name spoken by his lips 

I 


130 


THE OLD MAM' SELL E 'S SECRET. 


acted upon her like an electric shock. She drew up her 
figure, which had just now leaned upon the sill in the 
relaxation almost of childhood, and in every line of her 
face there was expressed absolute determination as if to 
repel some expected hostile attack. 

The Professor entirely ignored the transformation. 

“I hear from Frederika that you are ill,” he said with 
the friendly tone usual with a physician. 

“ I feel quite well again,” she answered with constraint. 
“Undisturbed repose has always proved my best medi- 
cine.” 

“Hm, — nevertheless you look ” he did not finish 

the sentence, but put his hand across the window-sill, and 
attempted to take hold of her wrist. She retreated several 
steps into the room. 

“Be reasonable, Felicitas!” he said with serious kind- 
liness, but his brows contracted gloomily as the girl, clasp- 
ing her hands almost convulsively in front of her, did not 
approach him. In spite of the thick beard, the angry com- 
pression of his lips could plainly be seen. 

“Then it is no longer your physician who addresses 
you, but your guardian,” he said harshly, “and as such I 
command you to come here 1” 

She did not look up, her eyes were still fixed on the 
ground, and her chest heaved as though with an inward 
conflict, but she slowly approached the window, and with 
averted face extended her hand, which he gently took in 
his. The well-shaped little hand, hardened by labour, 
trembled so violently that an expression of great compas- 
sion crossed the Professor’s face. 

“ Again, you wilful, foolish child,” he said with gentle 
gravity, “you have compelled me to treat you with 
severity — and I had hoped that we might part without 
one more em jittered word. Have you then no look 


TIIE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


131 


for me or for my mother but one of inextinguishable 
hatred ?” 

“We must all reap as we sow!” she replied in smoth- 
ered accents as she tried to withdraw her hand from 
his, looking at the slender fingers, that enclosed her wrist 
gently and firmly, with as much horror as though they 
had been of red-hot iron. 

But he dropped her hand quickly, — gentleness and 
sympathy disappeared from his face, — evidently provoked, 
he struck with the end of his cane at some innocent 
blades of grass that were growing in the chinks of the 
wall. Felicitas breathed again, this rough, harsh manner 
was familiar to her — it was his own — she hated his sym- 
pathy. 

“Always the same accusation,” he said at last coldly. 
“However your exaggerated pride might be wounded by 
it, it was our duty to bring you up with most moderate ex- 
pectations. I can bear the burden of your hatred calmly, 
for I did my best, and desired only your best good — and 
my mother? well, her love may be difficult to gain, I will 
not deny that, but she is incorruptibly just, and her fear 
of God would never have allowed her to permit any real 
harm or injustice to have befallen you. You are about to 
go out into the world upon your own responsibility. In 
your case docility is specially needful. How can you ex- 
pect to succeed in intercourse with others while you so 
rigidly retain your false views of life ? How can those 
defiant eyes ever win affection or good will?” 

She raised her eyes, and looked him calmly and firmly 
in the face. 

“ If any one can prove to me that my ideas of right 
will not bear the pure light of reason I will willingly re- 
nounce them,” she replied in her low, expressive voice, 
“but I know that I am not alone in my conviction that no 


132 


TILE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


one, whoever he may be, has the right to condemn another 
to intellectual death; I know that thousands feel, as I do, 
how unjust and wrong it is to deny to any human soul 
the gratification for which it thirsts, simply because it is 
confined in a low-born body. I go out into the world with 
confidence, for I believe in human nature, and rely upon 
finding those towards whom I shall certainly not preserve 
an attitude of defiance. A girl in my unfortunate circum- 
stances, who is obliged to live among heartless people, has 
no other weapon than her pride, no support except the 
consciousness that she is God’s child, and may be a par- 
taker of his spirit. lie is no respecter of persons, for 
Him the distinctions of rank and class do not exist — 
they are human inventions, and the more narrow and 
contracted the soul, the more does it cling to such dis- 
tinctions.” 

She turned slowly away, and disappeared behind the 
door leading into the servants’ room, while he stood with- 
out gazing after her. He pulled his hat down over his 
forehead, and walked towards the house. No one could 
tell what was going on in that bowed head, but one thing 
was certain, the glow which had shone in his eyes when 
he first returned to the house that afternoon had vanished 
— gloomy thoughts were evidently brooding behind that 
deeply-furrowed brow. 

In the hall were the young lawyer Franz, and Heinrich. 
The Professor started as if waking from a dream, as their 
voices struck upon his ear. 

“So you have patients in the house, Professor,” said 
the lawyer, shaking hands with him. “The fire has had 
evil consequences, as I hear. The child ” 

“Has catarrh fever,” completed the Professor dryly. 
He evidently was not in the humour for further explana- 
tions. 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 133 

“Ah, Herr Professor, that is of very little consequence,” 
said Heinrich. “The child is a poor, wretched little crea- 
ture, pining away all the time — but when a girl like Pay, 
who never has an ache or a pain all the year round, hangs 
her head, it is enough to make any one anxious.” 

“I have really not been able to perceive much hanging 
of the head,” said the Professor, — one could see the cor- 
ners of his mouth twitching ironically beneath his beard. 
“She holds her head as erect as is at all necessary, rely 
upon it, Heinrich!” 

He went up-stairs with Pranz. At the top of the first 
flight Anna ran towards them — she was barefoot, and in 
her night-dress, her poor little cheeks were scarlet with 
fever, and her eyes were swollen with crying. 

“Mamma is gone, and Rosa is gone — and Anna wants 
a drink of water!” she cried out to the Professor. Much 
displeased, he took her in his arms and carried her back 
into the bed-room. No one was to be seen. Greatly irri- 
tated, he called the maid. A distant door was heard to 
open, and Rosa, flat-iron in hand, her cheeks aflame, came 
running along the passage. In the distant room a huge 
pile of snowy muslin could be seen upon the ironing- 
table. 

“Where are you? How can you leave this sick child 
entirely alone?” he cried out to her, as she entered the 
room. 

“Ah, Herr Professor, I cannot be in two places at once,” 
said the girl, almost crying with vexation. “ My gracious 
lady must always have a fresh white muslin dress every 
morning — there is no end to the washing and ironing ; 
these muslin dresses make more work than ” 

She stopped short, for the young lawyer was seized 
with a violent fit of laughter. 

“Alas for the lady in simple white muslin!” cried he, 
12 


134 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


actually holding his sides, for the gloomy embarrassed 
countenance of his friend struck him as infinitely com- 
ical. 

“ My mistress thought,” Rosa went on with her defence, 
“that as Anna had only a bad cold, she might easily be 
left alone for half an hour — her toys were all on her bed 
where she could get them.” 

“And where is my cousin?” asked the Professor, 
harshly. 

“ My mistress and Madame Hell wig have gone together 
to the meeting of the Missionary Society.” 

“ Indeed 1” He waived all further explanation, and 
looked positively angry. “Now go back and get through 
with that stuff,” he ordered, pointing towards the door 
whence she had come ; then he called Frederika, but the 
old cook, having just put her hands into her fresh dough, 
sent Felicitas. 

The young girl came up-stairs. The flush caused by 
her late excitement had not yet quite left her cheek, — but 
her look coolly scanned the irritated countenance of the 
Professor. She stood still, with quiet dignity, awaiting 
his orders. It evidently cost him a struggle to address 
her. 

“ There is no one to take care of little Anna. Will you 
stay with her until her mother’s return?” he asked, and 
an attentive listener might have observed the effort with 
which he compelled his voice to take a gentle tone. 

“Most willingly,” she answered, without embarrass- 
ment. “There is only one objection to my doing so. 
The child’s mother does not like to have her little daugh- 
ter with me. But if you will take all responsibility— 1 
will do what you ask.” 

“Certainly I will.” 

Without another word, she entered the bed-room and 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE S SECRET. 


135 


closed the door. The young lawyer looked after her 
with sparkling eyes. 

“It is Heinrich’s strange fashion to call her ‘Fay,’” he 
said to the Professor, as they went up the second flight 
of stairs to the room of the latter, — “and oddly as the 
name sounds from his rude lips, it suits her marvellously. 
I must frankly confess that I cannot conceive how you 
yourself, and your mother, have had the courage to place 
this remarkable girl upon a footing with your old cook 
and that pert lady’s maid.” 

“Ah, you think we should have robed her in silks and 
velvets?” cried the Professor, more agitated than his 
friend had ever known him. “And as a daughter has 
been denied to the House of Hell wig, the empty place 
could not have been better filled than by this Fay, or 
rather Sphinx, as I call her. You were always an en- 
thusiast! There is no possible objection,” his voice vi- 
brated with excitement, “to your making the juggler’s 
daughter Madame Franz — as her guardian I will bestow 
my blessing upon you!” 

The handsome face of the young lawyer flushed to the 
roots of his hair. For one moment he turned in confu- 
sion, and looked from the window across the Square — 
they had entered the Professor’s room, — and then turn- 
ing again with a smile, and not without a shade of irony 
in his voice, he replied: 

“If I comprehend in the least the workings of that 
girl’s mind, she will scarcely trouble herself concerning 
her guardian’s blessing, or even consent — her own deci- 
sion is all I should have to consult — and if you think to 
scare me by the term ‘juggler’s daughter,’ you are greatly 
mistaken in me, my revered Professor. For you, indeed, 
with yoqr ideas, such a thought would unhinge your 
whole nervous system. What! commingle the warm 


THE OLD MAH'SELLE'S SECRET. 


13 * 

impulsive blood, coming quick from the heart of the jug 
gler’s daughter, and the cool sluggish stream which flows 
in your veins from your long line of eminently respect- 
able merchant ancestors — why, the idea is monstrous — 
those worthies there would turn in their graves!” 

He pointed into the next room through the open door. 
There, upon the wall, was hanging a long row of well- 
painted portraits in oil, all stately respectable men, with 
sparkling diamonds on their fingers, and in their fault- 
lessly tied cravats. They were the various Burgomasters 
and Councillors of Commerce, who had once borne the 
name of Hellwig. 

The Professor crossed the room and entered the apart- 
ment — the stings of his friend’s irony seemed to glide 
harmlessly off from him. He folded his arms upon his 
chest and walked several times up and down before the 
portraits. “They have lived blameless lives,” he said 
suddenly, standing still. “Has this exterior of stainless 
dignity and worth been attained and preserved without 
fierce mental conflicts? I cannot believe it. Human 
nature is antagonistic, it rebels most obstinately just 
where it should obey most implicitly. Yet all their sac- 
rifices have been as blocks of stone contributed to form 
one solid structure, and this structure is called ‘The 
House of Hellwig.’ Have they been formed and brought 
together only to be thrown down like a house of cards 
by some unworthy descendant? God forbid!” 

It really seemed as if he suppressed some inward 
struggle with these words, for the unwonted excitement 
which Franz had observed with such surprise entirely 
disappeared when he returned to his own room. 

Felicitas had been sitting about half an hour by the 
child’s bedside, when the Councillor’s widow c^me home 
Her face darkened at once at sight of the young girl. 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET. 


137 


“How did you come here, Caroline?” she asked sharply 
throwing her sunshade upon the sofa, and drawing off 
her Swedish gloves. “I certainly did not require this 
service of you.” 

“But /did!” said the Professor, as he suddenly ap 
peared behind her upon the threshold of the open do«r 
“Your child needed attendance, she ran out to me bare 
footed as I came up-stairs.” 

“Impossible! Oh, Anna, how could you be so dis 
obedient?” 

“Are you really in doubt, Adele, as to who was to 
blame in this case?” asked the Professor, still controlling 
himself — although the tone of his voice betrayed his dis- 
pleasure. 

“Oh Heavens! How I am tormented with that care- 
less creature Rosa! She has nothing in the world to do 
except to take care of this child, and yet I know that the 
moment my back is turned she is either gaping out of the 
window, or standing before the looking-glass.” 

“ She happens at this moment to be standing before the 
ironing-table labouring in the sweat of her brow at a 
dress which you must a tout prix put on to-morrow,” 
interrupted her cousin, emphasizing every word with cut- 
ting contempt. 

She started guiltily. For one moment she was quite 
overwhelmed with confusion, but she quickly recovered 
herself. 

“Heavens, how stupid!” she cried again, “she has en- 
tirely misunderstood me — how unfortunate I am!” 

“Well,” he again interrupted her, “we will suppose it 
a misunderstanding and let it go. But how could you 
leave your sick child in the charge of a maid who is, as 
You have just declared, so grossly careless?” 

“John I obeyed the call of a sacred duty,” answered 
12 * 


138 


THE OLD MA M ’ SELLE ’ S SECRET. 


the young widow, casting up her beautiful eyes with an 
expression of pious enthusiasm. 

“Your most sacred duty is your duty to your child!” 
he cried, now really angry — “I, &s your physician, sent 
you here, not to occupy yourself with missionary socie- 
ties, but solely and simply for the sake of your child ! ,? 

“Oh, John, what would aunt and papa say if they 
should hear you? you used to think so differently.” 

“That I grant you, but reflection always leads us to 
the firm conviction that we should exert our best and 
strongest powers in the sphere where Providence has 
placed us. A hundred children brought from Paganism 
into the bosom of the church through your means could 
not relieve you from one iota of the blame that must 
attach to you for any neglect of your own child 1” 

The young widow’s face glowed like a peony, but she 
struggled bravely for her usual gentleness — and succeeded. 

“ Do not be so harsh to me, John,” she entreated. “ Re- 
member I am only a weak woman who always means to 
do what is right. If I have erred, it was out of affection 
for your mother who wished me to accompany her, — I 
promise you it shall not occur again.” 

The young widow spoke in the most melodious tone of 
her flute-like voice, and offered her hand to her cousin with 
a bewitching smile. Strange — the grave man blushed 
like a girl. Unconsciously he cast a shy glance towards 
the figure by the bedside bending over the little girl — then 
took the proffered hand in two fingers, and coldly dropped 
it. The dove-like eyes, which so beseechingly sought his, 
suddenly flashed, and the face grew pale — but tranquillity 
was bravely maintained. The young mother took her 
child’s head between her hands and kissed the feverish lit- 
tle forehead. 

“ I will take care of Anna now, and I thank you most 


TEE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


139 


cordially, dear Caroline, for taking my place here in my 
absence,” she said kindly to Felicitas. 

The young girl rose to go — but the child began to cry 
bitterly, and throwing her arms around her, held her 
tightly with both hands. 

The Professor felt the poor little wrist. 

“ She has a high fever, I cannot consent to have her 
excited further,” he said kindly but coldly to Felicitas. 
“Will you have the kindness to sit beside her until she 
falls asleep ?” 

She silently resumed her seat, and he left the room 
At the same time the Councillor’s widow retired hastily 
into her sitting-room, and closed the door behind her with 
something of a slam. Felicitas heard her walking up and 
down with agitated steps, and then there came a sharp 
sound like the tearing of muslin. Little Anna started up 
and listened, and when the sound was repeated in quick 
succession, she began to tremble violently and burst into 
tears. 

“Mamma, mamma!” she cried suddenly, “I will be 
good! I will not do so again. Don’t, dear mamma!” 

At this moment Rosa entered. Her usually rosy face 
looked quite pale. 

“ She is tearing something to pieces again. I heard it 
distinctly on the landing,” she whispered to Felicitas with 
an expression of great disgust. “ Lie still, my darling,” 
she said, soothingly to the child. “ Mamma will not hurt 
you, — she will not come here now, and by-and-by she 
will be kind again.” 

Within, a door opened and shut, the Councillor’s widow 
had evidently gone out of the room. Rosa now entered 
it, and returned immediately with a small bundle of white 
rags in her hand. They were the remains of a lace pocket 
handkerchief. 


140 


THE OLD MAM' SELLER SECRET. 


11 She is perfectly beside herself when she falls into one 
of her rages,” grumbled the maid. “ She tears to pieces 
whatever she has in her hands, and strikes right and left 
without mercy. That poor little thing knows that well 
enough.” 

Felicitas pressed the child to her heart, as if to shield 
her from her mother’s violent outbreak of passion, — but 
there was no ground for her anxiety. The voide of the 
young widow was suddenly heard from the landing with- 
out in all its bell-like clearness of tone, — she was chatting 
cheerfully with young Franz as he went down stairs, and, 
when shortly afterwards she entered the bed-room, she 
looked more lovely and gentle than ever. The recent an- 
gry flush had subsided, leaving only a delicate carmine 
tint on either softly-rounded cheek, and no one would 
have dreamed that the heightened brilliancy of the eyes 
which beamed in that beautiful face was the result of 
anything but some lofty ebullition of feminine enthusiasm. 


CHAPTER XT. 

When, at the Professor’s request, Felicitas took her 
station by little Anna’s bedside, she never dreamed that 
she had undertaken an office which she was to retain for 
many days. The child became dangerously ill, and would 
not suffer either her mother or Rosa to approach her. 
Upon the Professor and Felicitas, therefore, the charge of 
watching by her and giving her her medicine devolved. 
In her delirium the torn handkerchief played a conspic- 
uous part. John listened with amusement to her childish 


THE OLD MAM' SELL E' S SECRET. 


141 


cries of anguish and fear, and more than once called up 
a blush of confusion and terror into his cousin’s cheeks 
by his persistent searching questions. She, however, 
stoutly affirmed — and Rosa always confirmed her asser- 
tion — that the child alluded to some frightful dream which 
she had had. 

Felicitas soon became most skilful in her duties as 
nurse ; for although daily and hourly intercourse with the 
Professor at first made her position a very trying one, 
yet the anxiety which they shared together for the child’s 
life, helped her to overcome the difficulties of her situation 
more quickly than she had thought possible. She was 
amazed to find how well she understood him in his office 
of physician. While others — even the child’s mother — 
thought him impenetrable, she always knew whether he 
considered the danger on the increase, or whether he had 
begun to hope, — and this almost entirely without a word 
of explanation on his part calling her to note any change 
that was taking place. He relieved her by watching him- 
self on alternate nights, and during the day he spent much 
time in the sick-room. He would sit patiently for hours 
by the bedside, laying one and then the other of his cool 
hands upon the child’s hot forehead. The little girl would 
often fall asleep, thus soothed by his gentle hand, which 
really seemed to possess magnetic power. 

Wfth determined aversion Felicitas tried to drive from 
her mind the involuntary comparisons that would sug- 
gest themselves, as sitting at some distance from him her 
glance rested upon his face and figure. There were the 
same hard, irregular lines in the face, the same broad, 
massive forehead, above which the thick hair was most 
carefully and smoothly brushed, the same eyes, the same 
voice, everything just as she remembered him the terror 
of her childhood, — but she looked in vain for that gloomy 


142 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET 


air of asceticism which had made the youthful face and 
figure so prematurely old and forbidding. A mild light 
seemed to surround that broad forehead, — and as she 
listened to the tones of his voice as he tenderly soothed 
the suffering child, she could not but confess to herself 
that he certainly appreciated fully the sacredness of his 
calling. He did not stand contemplating, with a cold 
shrug of his shoulders, the unavoidable suffering of others ; 
he not only tried to rescue the body from pain and death, 
— but the agonized soul might find support and sympathy 
in his eyes, and gather courage and consolation from his 
voice. He had a command of language which few men 
possess. Words and tones were at his bidding which 
stirred electrically the heart of the listener. Who could 
at such times remember his stiff, awkward movements, 
or his repellant demeanour in social intercourse? His 
presence compelled admiration, — he was a man conscious 
of power, — the deep-thinking, determined mediator be- 
tween the two deadly opponents Life and Death. But 
whatever thoughts of this nature might at times haunt 
and fill Felicitas’ mind, her concluding consideration was 
always the same. If he can think and feel humanely, — 
sympathizing with the needs and woes of the poorest of 
his fellow-men, — the despised child of the juggler has all 
the more reason to detest him, for to her he had been only 
an unpitving oppressor and prejudiced unjust judge. 

During their present daily intercourse, he had never 
once adopted towards her that gentle tone and manner 
which she so dreaded, and against which she defended 
herself with the weapons of defiance and pride. He pre- 
served uninterruptedly the air of common kindness w T hich 
he had used towards her since their last conversation, — 
and this was expressed far more in manner than in words, 
as, except to ask her some unavoidable question, he hardly 


TEE OLD MAM'SELLE'.S SECRET. 


143 


ever addressed her. lie had a hard part to play with the 
Councillor’s widow. At first she behaved like one beside 
herself, and insisted that Felicitas should resign tier post 
to herself or to Rosa — all John’s quiet decision of manner 
was necessary to bring her to reason. Then she could 
not be prevented from putting in at the door at all hours 
that curly head which the child so dreaded, — almost al- 
ways when her cousin and Felicitas were together in the 
room. She wept and wrung her white hands. WhaW 
ever poets may say about heroines ‘ lovely in enchanting 
tears,’ there is no human face that can be beautiful in a 
burst of tears that springs from the extreme of agony, — 
but no line was deepened in that lovely oval face, no dis- 
figuring redness appeared upon the transparent skin, — 
the pearly drops rolled gently over the peachy cheeks. 
No artist could imagine a more exquisite artistically 
weeping Mater Dolorosa. What a contrast between her 
and the pale, anxious watcher by the child’s bed ! Every 
evening punctually, she appeared in an elegant wrapper, 
a cap of cobweb lace resting lightly upon her curls, and 
a devotional book in her hand, and begged to be allowed 
to watch. One and the same contest always ensued 
between her cousin and herself. She made the same pro- 
testations against what she called this^invasion of her 
maternal rights, and departed to her bed gently weeping 
and lamenting, to arise the next morning fresh as a 
spring rose. 

It was the ninth evening of little Anna’s illness. The 
child lay in a dull stupor. Now and then an unmeaning 
murmur would escape her lips. The Professor had been 
for a long while sitting motionless by her bedside, with 
his head bowed upon his clasped hands; suddenly he 
arose and b'eckened Felicitas into the next room. 

“You watched last night and have not allowed yo«r- 


144 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE’S SECRET. 


self one moment of rest now for two days,” he said, “and 
yet I am going to ask a further sacrifice of you. There 
will be a crisis to-night. I could easily share my watch 
with my cousin or Rosa, for the child is entirely uncon- 
scious, but I need beside me thorough thoughtfulness and 
self-forgetfulness. Will you watch again to-night?” 

“Yes.” 

“ But you will have to pass hours of anxiety and sus- 
pense, — do you think you are strong enough ?” 

“ Oh yes. I love the child — and in short, I will be 
strong enough.” 

“Have you such firm faith in the power of your will?” 
His voice began to express the gentleness which she so 
dreaded. 

“It has never yet failed me,” she replied, and her calm 
eyes grew stern and repellant. 

The night fell — a lovely, still spring night. The bright 
glittering moonlight was bathing the sleeping town, — 
it shone into the long room in the merchant’s house 
where the old portraits were hanging, touching them 
with silver, and breathing a strange life into their mo- 
tionless features. The flowers on the carpet bloomed 
afresh in the magic light, and a million silvery gleams 
■were reflected from the antique chandelier hanging from 
the centre of the ceiling. But within, in the sick-room, 
mighty forces were battling above the narrow bed for 
the mastery. The conflict was fierce indeed. The child 
lay there in violent convulsions. The Professor stood 
beside her with his eyes riveted upon the writhing limbs 
and the distorted face. He had done everything that 
human science and medical skill could suggest, — and 
now he was patiently abiding the issue of his unwearied 
efforts to assist the beneficent forces of nature. 

The clock upon the church tower struck twelve in 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


145 


Blow, deliberate strokes. Felicitas, who was leaning over 
the foot of the bed, shuddered, — it seemed to her that 
that long ringing clang must bear away the childish soul 
upon its mighty waves of sound, and, in fact, the tightly- 
strung limbs suddenly relaxed, the clenched hands opened 
and fell feebly upon the covering of the bed, and after a 
few more minutes the head lay quietly upon the pillow. 
The Professor leaned over her silently for awhile, and 
then raising his head, he whispered with emotion, — “I 
think she will recover!” 

Felicitas gazed anxiously at her little charge, — she list- 
ened to her gentle breathing, and saw how the wearied 
limbs had fallen into a childish attitude of repose. Then 
she rose noiselessly and went into the next room. She 
stepped to the open window. The delicious night-air in 
which a breath of morning already mingled encircled her 
refreshingly, — she leanpd her weary head against the 
stone embrasure of the window, and her clasped hands 
hung idly before her. On the window-sill was a tall tear 
rose bush, — one exquisite flower, doubly pale in the white 
moonlight, hung above her snowy brow and glimmering 
hair. Her pulses throbbed feverishly — no wonder ; within 
there, in that narrow room, death had hovered very near 
a human life. The tension of her nerves during the last 
few hours had been fearful, — her ears had heard only the 
sudden shrill shrieks of the child, — she had seen nothing 
but the convulsed little form and the mute, pale face of 
the physician who had asked the assistance, which she 
could render, only by a glance or a sign. They had been 
alone together within four walls, one in the exercise of 
mercy and compassion — divided by a deep gulf of hatred 
and prejudice. 

The dry heated eyes of the young girl gazed from the 
window at the front of the town-hall, shining bright in 
K 13 


146 


TEE OLD HAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


the moonlight. The statues on either side of the ch ek-- 
the Virgin and £>t. Boniface — stood out in ghost!/ lil-j 
from their niches,— what good did they do standing pro- 
tectingly and beneficently watching there ? Directly be- 
neath them the tragedy had taken place. Those three 
high windows, now glittering silver, had shone on thut 
sad evening long ago — with the golden light of the fairy- 
like illumination within, — and upon that very spot upon 
the floor where now the moon’s pale ray was sleeping, 
the wondrously lovely woman had stood unfalteringly 
before the crowd of spectators and the deadly weapons, 
' — but beneath her breastplate a mother’s heart was 
throbbing tenderly and anxiously, — for a little child was 
sleeping lonely at the inn for whom she would work 
until — the six shots fell and all was over. 

The Professor now came out of the sick-room and 
closed the door noiselessly behind him. He went up to 
Felicitas, who was still standing immovably at the 
window. 

“She is sleeping gently,” he said. “I will spend the 
remainder of the night with her, — now go and rest ’ 

Scarcely waiting for him to finish his sentence, Felicitas 
left the window and walked silently past him to leave 
the room. 

“ I think we can hardly separate so coldly to-night,” he 
said in a low voice before she could reach the door — 
it seemed as if against his will he broke the spell of si- 
lence. “During these last daj^s we have stood faithfully 
by one another like true comrades, battling with death 
for a human life, — remember that,” he added with 
warmth. “In a few weeks we shall certainly part at all 
events, perhaps never to see each other again in this 
world. I inu"t do you and myself the justice to tell you 
that by your own force of character you have utterly 


T1IE OLD MAM' SELLS* S SECRET. 


147 


destroyed the prejudice and dislike of the last 1 ine years. 
Only in one dark spot — in your inextiDguishable hatred 
and obstinacy — do I recognize the wayward child who 
once aroused all my sternness and severity.” 

Felicitas had advanced several steps towards him. 
The moonlight illuminated her whole figure. As she 
stood there erect with compressed lip and pale face 
turned towards him over her shoulder, there was indeed 
an air of determined hostility in her whole attitude and 
expression. 

“In all physical ailments you always inquire into 
causes before you form an opinion, ” she replied. “But 
you never thought it worth your trouble to inquire 
whence proceeded that disease, as you chose to call it, of 
the soul, which you desired to root out You judged 
blindly upon vague hints of information, and are just as 
blamable as though one of your patients had died through 
your medical neglect. Suddenly deprive a grown man of 
his ideal, the golden future of which he always has 
dreamed longingly, and, be he never so pious and virtu- 
ous, he cannot, in the first shock of his loss, fold his 
hands quietly and submit, — how much less then could a 
child only nine years old, a child, whose whole soul had 
been filled with anticipations of the day when she should 
once more see her idolized mother — in whose mind there 
was no hope, no dream — in whose heart no throb that 
was not in some way connected with this blissful meet- 
ing 1 ? ' 

She stopped for a moment, — but no word passed her 
hearer’s lips, — he did not even look at her. At the be- 
ginning of her accusation he had once made a sudden 
hasty movement as if to interrupt her, — hut as she pro- 
ceeded he stood immDvable, in a listening attitude, not 


148 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


even raising his hand to stroke his beard — a motion com- 
mon with him when his attention was excited. 

“My uncle preserved to me my happy ignorance,” she 
continued, after a short pause, — “but he died, and with 
him all pity died in this house. That morning I had 
gone for the first time to my mother’s grave, — only the 
evening before I had learned her terrible fate, — they told 
me at the same time that the juggler’s wife was a lost 
creature, w T hom even a merciful God would not admit 
into his heaven ” 

“Why did you not tell me all this then?” interrupted 
the Professor gloomily. 

Felicitas, out of consideration for the sick child, had 
spoken in an undertone, which added intensity to her ex- 
pression of bitterness. She continued in the same tone 
— turning her beautiful face flushed with scorn fully 
towards him: 

“Why did I not tell you all this then?” she repeated. 
“Because you had already declared that the class from 
which I sprung was utterly odious to you, and that there 
was hopeless levity in my blood.” The Professor covered 
his eyes with his hand for a moment. “Young as I was, 
with my first bitter experience of life fresh upon me, I 
knew well at that moment that I should find no sympa- 
thy, no pity. And have you ever had any sympathy or 
pity for the player’s child?” she asked, advancing one 
step towards him, and emphasizing every word with in- 
describable bitterness. “Has* it ever occurred to you 
that the creature whom you wished to bow beneath the 
yoke of servitude might perhaps have capacity to think? 
Have you not stretched her soul upon the rack repeat- 
edly with your determination to root out, like noxious 
weeds, every desire that she might entertain for mental 
culture — every expression of becomiug self-reliance — 


TELE OLD MAM' SELLERS SEC JET. 149 

every aspiration to a loftier atmosphere? Do not think 
that I accuse you of wrong in bringing me up to labour. 
Labour even the hardest and most fatiguing can never 
be a disgrace. I work gladly, — but that you did your best 
to make me a soulless toiling machine — that you tried to 
crush out in me that intellectual element which alone can 
illuminate and ennoble a life of hard labour — that I can 
never forget nor forgive I” 

“Never, Felicitas?” 

The young girl shook her head with a wild gesture ol 
refusal. 

“Then I must resign myself to your resolution, ” he 
said, with a slight smile that was involuntarily, or even 
in spite of himself, full of melancholy. “I have offended 
you mortally, and yet — I repeat it — I could not do other- 
wise.” He walked several times up and down the room. 
“In order to justify myself, I must once more allude to 
what I know gives you great pain,” he continued quickly. 
“Tou are entirely without means, and are of — despised 
origin. You are necessitated to earn your own living. 
It would have been cruel to have bestowed upon you an 
education fitting you for a higher position in life, and 
theu to have degraded you to the level of a servant, — 
and yet I could not have given you any other position, — . 
for do you suppose that any family could have been in- 
duced to receive among their children as a governess the 
daughter of a juggler? Do you not know that a man,” 
. — he stopped for a moment, his breath came quickly, and 
his face grew white, — “ yes, that a man of good position 
who might desire to link his life with yours would be 
forced to sacrifice much — both in himself and his relations 
with the world? And what an unimaginable humilia- 
tion would that be for your proud heart I This is the 
result of the social laws which you despise — but in obedi- 

13 * 


150 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


ence to which numbers of men exercise an amount oi 
self-control and self-denial that you do not dream of— 
clinging to the maintenance of them from reverence for 
the past and from a conviction that they are a political 
necessity. And 1 too must obey them, — we do not all 
carry our sufferings written upon our foreheads — and my 
submission to them condemns me to a life of self-denial 
and — loneliness.” 

He was silent. It thrilled Felicitas strangely, this in- 
voluntary, nay, almost unwilling revelation of his heart- 
secrets which this strong reserved man was hastily 
making with trembling lips at this midnight hour. And 
so he had doubtless give^ his heart to some woman who 
stood socially far, far above him. In the midst of the 
hate and anger which filled her soul towards him, she 
was conscious of being touched by a sorrow such as she 
had never known before. W&s it possible that she could 
leel sympathy for him? Had she indeed then no force 
of character — was she so weak? — she who such a short 
time before had declared so emphatically that she should 
‘feel no pity for any misfortune that might happen to 
him?’ And was he in fact to be pitied — why, instead of 
folding his hands idly in his lap, did he not strive in a 
manly way for the lofty prize? 

“Well, Felicitas, have you nothing to say?” he asked; 
“or are you again offended by my explanation, which is 
an honest one?” 

“No,” she replied coldly. “These are your individual 
views, — I have not the smallest desire to alter them. 
But you cannot deprive me of the conviction that there 
exist kind-hearted, unprejudiced people in the world, who 
will recognize an honest heart and good intentions even 
in a juggler’s daughter. But why should l reply ? We 
should never come to the end. You see everything from 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


151 


your stand-point of excessive respectability where you 
encase yoursejf in armour, that even your thoughts may 
not deviate from a certain routine. I belong to the class, 
despised by you and such as you, of those who believe 
that thought is and should be free. As you yourself 
say, our paths in life will diverge in a few weeks never 
to meet again; in mind we are already far apart. Have 
you any other commands for me with regard to the sick 
child?” 

He shook his head, and before he could say a word she 
had left the room. 


CHAPTER XYI. 

Anna’s recovery advanced rapidly, but Felicitas was 
not yet relieved from her duties as nurse. The little girl, 
usually quiet and docile, grew fretful and excited as soon 
as she left her bedside, and there was nothing for the 
mother to do but to entreat Felicitas to take charge 
of her daughter until she was perfectly recovered. The 
young widow did this all the more willingly, as the Pro- 
fessor no longer spent any length of time in the sick-room. 
He came every morning to see the child, but his visits 
scarcely lasted three minutes. Sometimes he took her in 
his arms and carried her up and down for awhile in the 
sunny sheltered court-yard, but except at such times he 
was rarely seen in the house. He seemed suddenly to 
have been seized by a positive passion for the garden; 
his whole mode of life was changed; he never studied in 
his room any more ; whoever wished to speak to him was 
sent out to the garden. Frau Hellwig yielded with a 
wonderfully good grace to this freak, as she called the 


152 


THE OLD MAM' SELLER SECRET. 


alteration in his habits, and to the great delight of the 
Councillors widow arranged matters so that their prin- 
cipal meals were taken in the garden. Thus the old house 
grew more quiet than ever, the family often did not return 
io it until after ten o’clock in th^ evening. But sometimes 
the Professor would come back earlier and alone ; Feli- 
citas would hear him slowly ascending the first flight of 
stairs, and then almost always an odd circumstance oc- 
curred. He would turn on the landing, and, as if me- 
chanically, approach the sick-room, but just outside, wheD 
his hand must have almost touched the latch of the door, 
he would suddenly pause, as if recollecting himself, and 
then retracing his steps would mount the stairs to his 
room with redoubled speed. His room was just over the 
one where the child lay, and on these evenings he did not 
sit down quietly to his books, but walked restlessly up 
and down for hours, — this lonely pacing of his room 
always interested and excited Felicitas — she connected 
it in some way with his midnight confession. 

About eight in the evening little Anna usually fell 
asleep, and then Rosa took Felicitas’ place at the child’s 
bedside, while she took her time of relaxation, and went 
up to the rooms under the roof. Aunt Cordula seemed 
to have overcome her late physical weakness, and to have 
no more presentiments of death, — she was more cheerful 
than ever, and would exult like a child in the anticipa- 
tion of soon having Felicitas all to herself. She always 
waited supper for her. There stood the carefully ordered 
tea-table in the gallery, — some favourite delicacy of Feli- 
citas’ was always provided, and a whole bundle of freshly- 
arrived magazines and newspapers awaited her, to be 
read aloud. During these cosy delightful hours of re- 
freshment, everything which had lately so excited and dis- 
turbed her mind would, often to her own surprise, utterly 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 153 

fade away. She never spoke of what went on in the front 
mansion, and the old Mam’selle — true to her custom of 
years — never asked a question; and thus the strange ex- 
periences through which she was passing naturally and 
easily fell into the background. 

One beautiful sunny afternoon Felicitas was sitting 
alone with little Anna, — a church-like stillness pervaded 
the house ; the Councillor’s widow and Madame had gone 
to make a round of visits, and the Professor was surely 
in the garden, for there was no sound of life from his room 
above. The child had been playing for a long while, but 
now she threw aside her toys, laid her head back on the 
pillow, and begged, — “Sing me a song, Caroline dear.” 

She was extravagantly fond of hearing Felicitas sing. 
The young girl’s voice was contralto, — its tones were 
full and round, issuing from the chest, without any un- 
certainty, like musical strokes upon a bell, and with that 
clear vibration which seems peculiar to the violoncello, 
and which in the human voice, without one shade of 
shrillness, breathes a tender melancholy, and is always 
expressive of intellectual refinement. The old Mam’selle, 
with her rare musical attainments and the finished culture 
which her own talent had attained under most excellent 
masters, had trained and educated this magnificent instru- 
ment well. Felicitas sang German songs in a perfectly 
classic artistic manner. She had discovered that she 
could always soothe the child by beginning some flowing 
melody very softly, only lending its full power to her 
voice after singing for some moments, and never then, if 
she dreamed that unkind ears were near. 

‘ O fresh young grass, O tender green P 

The exquisite song of Schumann’s now resounded through 
the room, sung as only the lips of a true pure young girl 


154 


THE OLD MA AT SELL E ’ S SECRET. 


can sing it. Felicitas sung the first verse with touching 
simplicity and suppressed force, but at the beginning of 
the second : ‘Apart from all, alone I go, — No human word 
can soothe my woe,’ — her powerful voice swelled forth 
like the note of an organ. Suddenly, above, in the Pro- 
fessor’s room, she heard a chair, not pushed aside, but 
hurled away; hasty steps crossed to the door, and a bell 
rung violently and shrill, like an alarum, through the 
quiet house. It was the first time that the bell-rope in the 
second story had ever been put in requisition. Frederika 
hurried breathless up the two flights of stairs, and Feli- 
citas stopped in deadly terror. After a few minutes the 
old cook came hobbling down again, and entered the sick- 
room. 

“The Herr Professor sends you word not to sing any 
more, — he cannot study,” she said in her rude, rough 
way. “He was as white as a sheet, and could hardly 
speak for anger. What do you behave so for ? I never 
heard of such a thing in all my life! You sing exactly 
(ike a man, and, gracious Heavens! what a song! Just 
(ike a chimney sweep’s! I never saw such a girl as you 
are ! I used to sing very well when I was young, but I 
sung beautiful songs, oh, beautiful — ‘ Life let us cherish,’ 
and ‘Lovely moon, thy quiet beaming.’ You’d better let 
singing alone, Caroline. You don’t know how to sing. 
Yes, and the Professor says you must take the child down 
into the court-yard and drag her about in her carriage a 
little.” 

Felicitas hid her glowing face in her hands — she seemed 
to have suffered a humiliating rebuke. How ashamed, 
how disgraced she felt ! For although she could be bold 
and brave enough in defending her convictions, in tell- 
ing the unadorned truth to her enemies, she was incon- 
ceivably shy and reserved with respect to her own talents 


THE OLD MAM' SELL FAS SECRET. 


155 


and acquirements. The idea that her voice might reach 
the ears of strangers would alone suffice to paralyze 
her powers and make her dumb; the thought of wearying 
or annoying any one with her singing, was too much. 
And now this had actually happened — she was thought 
forward — she had laid herself open to the charge of de- 
siring to bring herself into notice, and therefore she had 
been punished and disgraced in this way. Madame’s 
harshest injustice and most wilful misunderstanding anc 
ill treatment had never drawn a tear from her eyes, but 
now she wept bitterly. 

A quarter of an hour afterwards Felicitas was dragging 
the child’s carriage up and down the court-yard. The 
feverish glow upon her cheeks was gradually disappear- 
ing beneath the refreshing breath of Spring, but it was 
powerless to remove the expression of gloomy reflection 
upon her brow. After a little while Madame returned, 
accompanied by the Councillor’s widow, and at the same 
time the Professor appeared on the stairs, hat on head 
and cane in hand, about to take a walk. All three came 
into the court-yard. The Councillor’s widow carried a 
tolerably large bundle, and after petting and kissing her 
child, she tore off a corner of the paper cover of her pack- 
age, and said to her cousin with an arch smile : 

“Just look here, John, am I not an extravagant crea- 
ture ? Although my heart is steeled against all the at- 
tractions of diess, I cannot resist a linen shop. I saw 
this beautiful table-cloth exposed for sale ; now could I 
walk coldly by ? Impossible ! Before I knew what I 
was doing I had it rolled up under my arm, and this piece 
of exquisitely fine linen besides. But good-by to a hand- 
some dress this winter! I must conscientiously fill up the 
gap that this will make in my finances by defying myself 
at least one winter dress, — but let it go, a notable Ger- 


156 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


man housekeeper can hardly have her linen-press full 
enough.” 

The Professor did not reply — he was looking beyond 
her towards the gate of the court-yard. The poor woman 
whom Felicitas remembered to have «een lately in his 
study up-stairs, was just entering. She had a large bun- 
dle under her shawl, and made an almost reverential curtsy 
as she approached the Professor. 

“Her Professor, my William can see again — he sees as 
well as I or anybody else,” she said, — her voice trembled, 
and the tears gushed from her eyes. “Who would have 
thought it! Ah, he was so miserable, and we were all so 
unhappy! Now he can earn his living again, and I can 
die content, for I shall not leave a poor, helpless, blind 
boy behind me. Ah, Herr Professor, all the treasures 
that the world contains would not be too much for you ! 
But we are such poor people we cannot dream of reward- 
ing you for what you have done for us. I hope you won’t 
be olfended, Herr Professor, but I thought perhaps this 
little trifle ” 

“Well, what do you mean?” interrupted the Professor 
hastily, retreating a few steps. 

As she said the last words the woman opened her shawl, 
and disclosed a large bird-cage and a roll of linen. 

“You seemed to like so much to listen to this nightin- 
gale when you used to come to us,” she began again, 
“ and if you only put the little thing in a smaller cage you 
can easily carry it back with you to Bonn. And the piece 
of linen, it is not very fine, but I spun it myself, and per- 
haps Madame Hellwig would use it for towels ” 

“ What do you mean, woman, by depriving your hus- 
band )f that bird which he is so fond of?” said the Pro- 
fessor. “I cannot endure birds, positively cannot bear 
them,— and why should you feel yourself called m>on to 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


157 


provide us with house linen? Put these things up again 
and go directly home.” 

The woman stood before him surprised and speechless. 

“You ought to have spared me this, Frau Walter!” he 
said more gently. “I have told you repeatedly that you 
must not bring me anything. There, now go, and tell 
William that I shall certainly come to look after him once 
more to-morrow.” 

He gave her his hand, and pulled the shawl over the 
objects of her unfortunate expedition. The woman curt- 
sied with downcast eyes and went away. Madame and 
the Councillor’s widow had been mute witnesses of the 
scene, — the countenance of the former had expressed great 
disapprobation, at one time it had seemed almost as if she 
would have taken part in what was going on. 

“Now, really, I cannot understand you, John,” she 
said, in a tone of reproach, as soon as the woman had 
left. “When I think of all that your education has cost, 
it seems to me that you have no right whatever to refuse 
any compensation for your services. Her idea about the 
bird was stupid enough to be sure — its shrill piping would 
ill accord with my quiet house, but if I had had my way 
the woman should have left the linen here — a good piece 
of linen is not to be thrown away in that style, let me 
tell you.” 

“ Perhaps then, dear aunt, my charitable thoughts would 
hardly have found favour in your sight,” said the Coun- 
cillor’^ widow, in a jesting tone. “Only think, John,” 
she continued, growing serious, “we have just heard this 
morning of an unfortunate family, so poor that the poor 
little children have scarcely rags to cover them, and they 
are most excellent people, too. Aunt and I are thinking 
about making a collection for them. If you, now, had 
only taken the linen, I should have come begging to you, 

14 


158 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


and I should have made you give it all to me, — it would 
have made such nice clothes for those poor children — I 
would have sewed upon them myself.” 

“Oh, the depth of this Christian charity!” interrupted 
the Professor, with a laugh of angry contempt. “ The 
only possession of one poor family must be taken to sup- 
ply the necessities of another, and the magnanimous de- 
viser and executor of this work of love stands beaming 
upon a wicked world with a halo of feminine compassion 
surrounding her fair curls.” 

“You are unkind, John,” cried the young widow, 
offended, — “I like to give ” 

“Undoubtedly, when it costs you nothing in the world, 
Adele,” he continued, ironically. “Why does not the 
notable German housekeeper open the drawers of her 
overflowing linen-press? Why not take this superfluous 
piece?” he touched the roll of linen that she had in her 
arms. Both ladies warded off his hand as though they 
feared an attempt upon the young widow’s life. 

“ Oh, that is carrying the joke a great deal too far, 
John,” she said, in a complaining tone, — “ this exquisitely 
fine linen 1” 

“You have often reproached me,” the Professor said, 
turning to his mother, without appearing to have heard 
his cousin’s last remarks, “by declaring that I do not suf- 
ficiently prize the results of my very expensive education ; 
I assure you, I am a practical man. I admit the duty 
which lies at every one’s door, of getting and gaining, — 
but my profession leads me also to infinitely higher aims 
— it gives scope for the exercise of charity and benevo- 
lence, to a greater degree than in any other calling — with 
the exception, perhaps, of the church. I certainly shall 
never rank myself among those physicians who, with one 
hand, assist a poor man to be rid of a disease, while they 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET 


150 


plunge the other into his pocket and deprive him of the 
means of maintaining the life they have saved.” 

Until now Felicitas’ presence had been unobserved. 
His glance passed over her unconsciously — but was ar- 
rested and fettered for a moment by the glowing expres- 
sion of involuntary satisfaction that beamed in the girl’s 
face, — for the first time those four eyes encountered each 
other with a lightning glance of mutual understanding 
and sympathy — but only for one moment, — Felicitas, 
overcome with sudden self-consciousness, dropped her 
eyelids, and the Professor, by a hasty movement, pulled 
his hat so low over his eyebrows that his flushed face 
was almost concealed by its broad brim. 

“Just as you please — I don’t care — it is your own 
affair, John, you can think as you choose,” said Madame 
coldly. “Your Grandfather Hell wig would hardly have 
been pleased to have listened to your views. The prac- 
tice of medicine is your business, and in matters of busi- 
ness, he used to say, there must be no sentimental con- 
siderations brought into play.” 

She walked away and entered the house. The Coun- 
cillor’s widow, pressing her cherished bundle to her heart 
with a lovely pouting air, followed her, walking by the 
side of the Professor. On the threshold, the latter turned 
and looked once more into the court-yard. Felicitas was 
just taking little Anna out of the carriage, that she might 
comply with her entreaty to be carried up and down two 
or three times. It seemed at one moment, while the 
child was being lifted up and clung with its arms, a dead 
weight around the neck of her kind nurse, as if the 
slender figure must break beneath its burden. The Pro- 
fessor turned back into the court. 

“i have several times forbidden your carrying the 
child,” he said reprovingly, with some irritation, — “she 


IGC 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


is too heavy for you. Did not Frederika tell you this 
afternoon that Heinrich must assist you?” 

“No, she forgot it. Heinrich is not at home.” 

The Professor -took the child from her arms and put it 
back into the carriage, talking to it gently but gravely. 
The expression of his face was gloomier and sterner than 
ever, — at any other time Felicitas would have coldly 
turned away from him, but to-day she was the cause of 
his ill humor, — she had interrupted the physician’s pro- 
found, earnest studies with her singing, and had possibly 
broken up a new and most interesting train of ideas. 
But if he were ever so irritated and angry, she must re- 
lieve her mind of the burden that weighed upon it — he 
must know that she had erred ignorantly. The moment 
was decidedly favourable, as his face could not be seen — 
he was still bending over the child talking to her. 

“I must beg your forgiveness for having annoyed you 
with my singing,” she said timidly. This gentle entreat- 
ing tone of voice, which was entirely new to him, pro- 
duced an evident effect upon him — he stood up and looked 
searchingly into her face. “I pray you to believe,” she 
continued, “that I had not the faintest suspicion that you 
were in the house at the time!” 

The word singing awoke the remembrance of Felicitas’ 
tears in little Anna’s mind. “Oh, you naughty uncle, 
how poor Caroline cried 1” said she, and shook her little 
clenched fist at him menacingly. 

“Is what the child says true, Felicitas?” he^asked 
quickly. 

She avoided answering his question directly. “I have 
been much distressed by thinking ” 

“That you might be suspected of a desire to be heard 
by others?” he interrupted her, and a fleeting smile 
hovered upon his lips. “Pray let me reassure you on 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET. 


161 


that point. However revengeful and implacable 1 may 
consider you, I could never accuse you of a desire to 
please — much as I might wish to do so ; I sent to ask 
you to be quiet — not because you exactly disturbed me — 
but — because I cannot listen to your voice. That offends 
you, of course, extremely ?” 

Felicitas shook her head with a smile. 

“Good — that is sensible! For the rest I will tell you 
something.” He bent his head low down and looked 
fixedly into her eyes. “Your song to-day betrayed a 
well-guarded secret to me!” 

Felicitas was terribly frightened ; he had then got some 
hint of her intercourse with Aunt Cordula. She felt her- 
self blush crimson as she looked at him in anxious con- 
fusion. 

“I know now why you have so peremptorily refused 
all future assistance from us. Into the sphere in which 
you will shortly live and move, it is true our arms could 
not reach. You are going upon the stage!” 

“No ; you are greatly mistaken,” she replied decidedly, 
and evidently relieved. “Although I hold the power of 
representing the creations of master-minds to be one of 
the noblest talents that human beings can possess, I have 
not the courage which such an undertaking demands. I 
am a perfect coward where any publicity is concerned, 
and should never achieve anything beyond mediocrity 
owing to my entire want of self-confidence. And, besides, 
in such a vocation it is necessary to possess thorough 
scientific musical knowledge such as 1 shall never ac- 
quire.” 

“It is quite in your power to do so.” 

“But I do not wish to attain to such knowledge. As 
a child, music always seemed to me something never to 
be learned, acquired like reading and writing, — but rather 
L 14* 


1C 2 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


an inspiration direct from Heaven, and I please myself 
by retaining this childish idea. That that, which melts 
me to tears and gives me such heart-felt delight, should 
depend upon stiff pedantic rules, and be mathematically 
produced upon paper in a series of ugly black marks, — 
this thought sensibly lessens my enjoyment. I do not 
like to think of it any more than to remember that every 
beautiful human face is formed upon a grinning skull, — 
no glimpse into machinery ever pleases me.” 

“And here we come again upon the ground-tone oi 
your nature, which revolts at all law and rule,” he said 
sarcastically, although he had listened with evident inter- 
est to her peculiar definition of music. “Then my con- 
clusion was false, and your very striking anxiety super- 
fluous,” he added sharply, after a pause. “It must be a 
most remarkable secret! I am half inclined to insist upon 
a revelation of your plans for the future, in right of my 
office as guardian.” 

“It would be useless,” she replied. “I shall not speak. 
You yourself have pronounced me free at the end of two 
months to do w T hat I choose.” 

“ Yes, yes, — that mistake has unfortunately been made,” 
he rejoined with irritation. “But it seems to me — not to 
speak harshly — at least very bold in any one as young as 
yourself to settle the question of your future entirely 
without counsel and aid of an older, more experienced 
person. Even suppose it were a question concerning 
the most important step in the life of a woman — the link- 
ing herself forever to ” 

“In such a case my guardian is the last person to whom 
I should apply for advice,” Felicitas interrupted him, 
blushing scarlet. “I should have been already linked 
for life to a man of no character or principle, had I not 
been bold enough to decide in such matters entirely for 


TEE OLD MA M' SELL E ’ S SECRET. 


163 


myself. You would willingly have said yes and amen 
to what were called Herr Wellner’s honourab.e proposals, 
if I had been weak enough to allow myself to be fright- 
ened into compliance by the menaces and ill treatment to 
which I was subjected before your return home.” 

This reproof cut like a two-edged sword. — for it was 
just. The Professor bit his lips, and his look sought the 
stones at his feet. 

“I thought indeed that it would be the best way in 
which to put an end to the task assigned me by my 
father,” he said after a painful pause, — his ' oice had lost 
much of its wonted firmness. “ It was an error, but it 
was not obstinately persisted in, as you km w. If upon 
my mother’s representation, and in accordance with her 
advice, I gave my consent, I certainly never attempted 
to combat your decision with severity or persuasion. My 
permission which you allude to will be the la^t exercise 
of my authority as guardian,” he continued, not without 
bitterness. “I must leave you to your fate, leu go to 
meet it joyously and hopefully ?” 

“Yes,” answered the young girl with sparkling eyes. 

“And you believe that you will be happy in youi new 
relations?” 

“As surely as I believe in another and happier life be- 
yond the grave !” 

As he asked the last question he riveted upon her the 
penetrating look, which certainly must often have proved 
effectual with the most obstinate of patients, — but a« hei 
eyes only gleamed more joyously, he turned away ei-hcr 
offended or irritated, and said not another word. He 
gave his hand to little Anna, and went slowly into the 
house. 

The same evening Rosa was sitting in the servants’ 
room. Her lap was filled with some airy light blue 


164 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


terial, and her needle was flying with almost feverish 
speed. Frederika sat down to talk with her, — for the 
maid would have to sew until midnight, and the old cook 
had graciously proposed to make a cup of strong coffee, 
that they might keep themselves awake. 

Ten had long struck. Felicitas was in her room pre- 
paring for rest, but the ceaseless gossip of the two women 
in the next room over their coffee made the small dreary 
bed-room unendurable. She opened the window wide, 
seated herself upon the sill, and with her hands clasped 
upon her knee, looked out into the court-yard. It was not 
quite dark there, — for the lamps in the rooms in the first 
and second stories were still burning, and through the 
high windows long rays of light fell upon the stone pave- 
ment, glistening upon the little bubbling fountain in the 
corner, bringing into sparkling relief various dim panes of 
glass in other corners, and even casting a pale reflection 
upon the distant fa9ade of the back building. Above the 
building encircling the court-yard stretched the glittering 
heavens, as in times long gone by, the quiet stars looked 
down into this place, which superstition had made the 
scene of many a ghostly legend, — yes, those changeless 
stars had looked upon the blooming living forms whose 
shadowy shapes were now sai,d to haunt the place with 
mournful wailings, in late repentance for the deeds done 
in the flesh, — noble knights and dignified merchants — 
aristocratic dames in velvet — and well-to-do wives of re- 
spectable citizens. Eyes, brilliant with the love of life 
had looked up to those stars, and eyes, blinded by dull 
egotism and conceit to the glory of God’s universe, shy 

eyes, behind which lurked the consciousness of guilt, 

and childish eyes, swimming in repentant tears , — their 
light was extinguished, — they were all mouldering in the 
earth, and still the great lesson which nature teaches of 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


165 


change and decay, was unlearned. Generation after gen- 
eration had opened their eyes and closed them again, — ■ 
and between these two moments — what a struggle there 
had been for a handful of earth, titles ^and honours, full 
money-bags, and gorgeous attire ! And the one element 
of human nature which moves the world, had been at 
work here busily — the love of rule — the unholy desire to 
crush down our fellow-men, and tread them under foot, — 
and where outward circumstances and inborn power had 
not yielded sufficient aid, to this end, men had wrapped 
themselves iij the incense-clouds of religion. Nothing 
has been so misunderstood and pressed into the service 
of worldly passions as the word of God, and no greater 
sins have desecrated his beautiful world than those per- 
petrated in his name. 

Whilst such thoughts occupied the young girl’s brain, 
Frederika’s rough tones and the shrill soprano of the 
waiting-maid kept up a constant clatter in the next 
room. 

“Yes,” said Rosa, with a sudden laugh, “my gracious 
mistress looked as if the skies were falling when the Pro- 
fessor came home to-night and told how he was making 
up a party of several ladies and gentlemen to visit the 
Thuringian forest the day after to-morrow , — he go with 

such a party! Oh, good Heavens ! In B he sticks to 

his books year out and year in — visits his patients and 
goes to the University, and that’s all, — never a ball, never 
a party. Oh, it’s dreadful! I can’t endure such strait- 
laced ideas in a man.” 

“Fie! you ought to be ashamed of yourself, Rosa,” 
said Frederika, with irritation. “What would your mis- 
tress say if she heard you?” 

“ Well, well, there’s reason in all things. When he was 
at her father’s large school, he would scarcely eat and 


166 


TEE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


drink for fear of not being holy and saintly enough, — then 
none of the scholars could bear him!” 

“Oh, how wicked men are! And doesn’t any one like 
him now?” 

“ Oh, now indeed, — now they all idolize him. Nobody 
knows how it all came about, but the students are crazy 
about him, — and as for the women — oh, it is really dis- 
gusting! I believe they would like to kiss his hands 
whenever he writes them a prescription. My mistress is 
just like all the rest, — sometimes she makes me too pro- 
voked. If he were only handsome, it would be a different 
thing. But such an ugly man as he is, with his red beard 
and bearish ways. I’d teach him better manners if I had 
anything to do with him. He cures everybody with 
rough words. For instance, my mistress went to bed 
with dreadful spasms, — he came up to the bedside, looked 
at her for a moment, as if he expected to see directly 
through her, and then said: ‘Collect yourself, Adele! 
Get up this moment. I will leave the room for a little 
while, and when I return I must find you sitting dressed 
in this chair, — do you understand me?’ And when he 
came back, sure enough there she was sitting, and the 
spasms never returned. But tell me yourself — do you 
consider that the right way to treat a lady ?” 

“Well, he might, to be sure, have been a little more 
polite,” replied the old cook. 

“Oh, he tyrannizes over her dreadfully. The greatest 
delight she has in life is dress. I tell you, Frederika, in 

D we have wardrobes full of such beautiful dresses 

— they would delight your very eyes, — and whenever the 
fashion changes, everything is made new again. But just 
because that grum old Professor is always admiring sim- 
plicity, my mistress never puts on a handsome dress when 
he is by. Muslin, nothing but white muslin. I rather 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET. 


167 


think if he knew how expensive this wonderful simplicity 

is He wanted my mistress to stay at home from this 

expedition on account of little Anna, — hut some of the 
party came and invited her so pressingly that she is 
going. Don’t you think, Frederika, that she will look 
lovely in this blue dress that she is going to wear?” 

The gossip of the thoughtless Rosa produced a painful 
impression upon Felicitas. She slipped down from the 
window-sill, and determined to go into the servants’ room, 
— her presence might prevent any further revelations con- 
cerning matters that certainly should not have been dis- 
cussed by strangers. Her glance once more sought aim- 
lessly the opposite wing of the house — she started. The 
astral lamp on the landing of the second story threw its 
rays upon the long corridor which led to Aunt Cordula’s 
flight of stairs, — the two first windows here were quite 
brightly illuminated — the bare whitewashed walls could 
be distinctly seen. Along this wall a figure was slowly 
pacing, but it was certainly no shadowy ghostly presence 
— it was he whom the lady’s-maid thought so ugly. Feli- 
citas could distinctly see the powerful outline of his head 
. — the decided waves of the thick beard, and the broad 
shoulders, which indicated strength indeed, but certainly 
did not suggest elegance. He paced along the whole 
length of the corridor, mechanically stroking his beard 
with his hand according to his habit, — and when he had 
reached the furthest end, that led to the landing with the 
painted door, he turned and retraced his steps. He was 
taking his nightly promenade — and because his room was 
just above the one where the Councillor’s widow and her 
child were sleeping he had selected this lonely place, 
where he could walk up and down as he pleased without 
the danger of disturbing any one. What made him thus 
restless? Was he studying out some intricate scientific 


168 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 


problem, or was he haunted by the image of her for 
whose sake he had condemned himself to ‘ a life of lone- 
liness V 

Felicitas thoughtfully closed the window, and drew 
before it the old green curtains, which had from time im- 
memorial sheltered the dreams of the cooks in the House 
of Hellwig. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

On the lawn, in the garden outside of the town, in the 
shade of the chestnut trees, the grass was freshly mown 
— a delicious healthy odour exhaled from the heaps of 
new hay — and upon one of them little Anna was lying 
in great comfort. Felicitas leaned against the trunk of 
the largest chestnut — it had always been her favourite. 
How often she had climbed it as a child when not only 
the garden beneath her but the whole beautiful world 
seemed to her flower-strewn ! Her gaze sought the shady 
arch above her, where the boughs were stretching boldly 
and powerfully forth in every direction. Inside of the 
rough bark warm life was pulsing, — the healthy sap as- 
cended and streamed into every leaf and twig that 
stretched itself abroad into the world far from the parent 
stem, which must have wondered at its offspring’s vaga- 
ries, for they trembled in every breeze, rustled and moaned 
when rough winds swept over them, and drooped ex- 
hausted beneath the hot rays of the sun, — but whatever 
trembling and moaning and sighing went on above, the 
old trunk stood firm. How is it with the human soul 
when the storms of fate sweep over it? It lies prostrate 
beneath them. 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE B SECRET. 169 

This glc omy thought, trite and true as it sounds, was 
not exactly verified in the case of the girl who is just 
pondering upon it, and whose white forehead at this mo- 
ment stands out in such lovely contrast with the rugged 
trunk against which she is leaning. This young creature, 
so full of sensibility and sympathy, had braved storms 
which would have shattered in the dust hundreds of her 
sex. Perhaps the sad reflection was induced by some 
unconscious dread, — some shadowy presentiment of a 
coming evil which would prostrate and crush even her 
iron will. How little do we understand, how little are we 
conscious of the processes going on in our own minds 1 
Not until after the occurrence of some great misfortune 
do we recur to the mysterious warnings that foreshad- 
owed it to us. 

Two days had passed since the departure of the Pro- 
fessor and the Councillor’s widow upon their expedition 
to the Thuringian forest. The former entered the travel- 
ling carriage with the air of a man who is shaking off a 
heavy burden, which he most willingly bequeathes to the 

good little town of X- . In the hall he had shaken 

hands with Heinrich, Rosa, and the old cook, who all ran 
to say ‘ Good-by but he passed Felicitas with a slight 
bow, touching the broad brim of his hat, as cool and in- 
different as though her lips had never uttered a harsh 
word to him, as if the eyes which had so often flashed 
defiance at him were those of a stranger. ‘That was 
sensible, and as it should be,’ thought Felicitas, with 
tightly-compressed lips. The young widow sat opposite 
to him. She had hovered past the assembled household 
like a fairy in the middle of a blue cloud, and her charm- 
ing face beneath her straw hat beamed as if with the cer- 
tainty of long-desired enjoyment. 

15 


no 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET. 


It was the second afternoon that Felicitas had been al- 
lowed to spend with little Anna in the garden. They had 
been peaceful hours, and not only that, they had had an- 
other and most agreeable, not to say remarkable result. 
The next garden, separated from the Hellwig garden only 
by a low green hedge, had a few days previously come into 
the possession of the Franz family. The day before the 
young lawyer had exchanged salutations and a few cour- 
teous words with her across the hedge, and to-day an 
old lady, in black silk dress and snowy cap, had suddenly 
appeared and addressed her. It was the mother of young 
Franz, and a person more gentle and kindly could not 
have been imagined. She lived an exceedingly retired 
life, devoted to her husband and son, and was regarded 

with great respect by the entire town of X . In view 

of Felicitas’ speedy departure from the Hellwigs, she 
begged to offer any advice and assistance that the young 
girl might need. What a ray of sunlight upon the path 
of the despised player’s child! And yet Felicitas was 
leaning against the trunk of the old chestnut-tree, lost in 
melancholy reverie. A light wind whispered in the 
branches above her head — she smiled sadly — their rust- 
ling sounded to her like an echo from a lost Eden. She 
thought of her early youth, now vanishing, and the 
whispering seemed to warn her that she was called upon 
to struggle and contend in the life just opening before 
her. But it did not warn her that at this very moment 
fate was preparing a crushing blow, which would well- 
nigh utterly blast all her hopes for the future. 

A few minutes before, Heinrich had entered the garden 
— he seemed about to rush up to Felicitas with the great- 
est precipitation, but he had suddenly disappeared behind 
a cypress wall. X ow he came slowly forward. At the 
first sight of that broad, honest face, working with some 


THE OLD MAM* BELLE'S SECRET. 


171 


violent agitation, she knew that he brought evil tid.ngs. 
She sprang towards him, and seized his hand anxiously. 

“Oh, Fay, I cannot help you. You must know it 
soon,” he said, in a voice of despair, brushing the back 
of his hard hand across his heated brow, and turning 
away his eyes. “ You know, my poor child, ’tis the way 
of the world.” 

“Go on!” she interrupted him harshly, almost with a 
scream, as she clenched her teeth convulsively. 

“But no — Heaven take pity on us! if you are going to 
do so, how shall I ever tell you? The old Mam’selle ” 

“Is dead!” she shrieked. 

“Not yet, Fay, not yet; but indeed it is almost over 
— she is unconscious — she has had a stroke. And, oh, 
my God! she was all alone. Her maid found her lying 
on the floor in the room with her birds; she had just 
carefully attended to the poor little creatures.” His 
voice failed him, and he cried like a child. 

For a moment Felicitas stood as if paralyzed ; every 
drop of blood forsook her pale cheeks; mechanically she 
pressed her hands upon her throbbing temples, but there 
came not a single tear. For one moment a bitter smile 
hovered upon her lips, then with unnatural composure 
she took up her straw hat which was lying upon one of 
the mounds of hay, called Bosa, who was sewing in the 
shade of the acacias, and delivered the child into her 
charge. 

“Are you ill?” asked the maid. The statue-like ap- 
pearance — the unnatural rigidity of the girl’s pallid feat- 
ures frightened her. 

“Yes, she is ill,” Heinrich answered in Felicitas’ 
stead, as she walked hurriedly toward the garden gate. 

“Oh, Fay! take care what you do,” he said, as he 
walked part of the way by her side, — “Madame is with 


172 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


her ; ’tis a good thing that the old Mam’selle cannot know 
it. Dr. Boehm has gone away, — he can do nothing, nothing 
more. And that it should have happened to-day 1 Ah, 
what an unlucky child you are!” 

Felicitas did not hear what he was saying, — the words 
struck her ear, but conveyed no meaning to her mind, 
just as one might meet people in the street and not know 
it. Unseen by Frederika she entered the house and ran 
up-stairs. On the topmost landing she threw her hat on 
the ground. The door of the bird-room was ajar, — it 
resounded with shrill chirpings. How carefully this 
door had always been closed, that no fugitive might es- 
cape! Now she passed in without closing it. The for- 
saken little creatures had better seek for food beneath 
heaven’s expanse — they had lost their kind protectress! 

She entered the large sitting-room, and from the ad- 
joining cabinet issued the inflexible monotonous voice of 
Madame, and filled the room that had for so many years 
resounded only to the language of music, and to the rare 
words that fell from the lips of kindly, peaceful age. The 
great lady was reading, in a loud voice, one of those old 
Calvinistic hymns, which, composed for an age and a 
class of men entirely wanting in intellectual culture, have 
lost all meaning if looked upon as interpretations of the 
devotional sentiment of to-day. How utterly incongruous 
it seemed, that those rough rhymes, strung together so 
rudely, and abounding in coarse material imagery, should 
have been selected to arouse and soothe the dying con- 
sciousness of one who had, during her whole long life, 
paid the truest homage to the Beautiful, and who recog- 
nized the Creator always in the beauty and love mani- 
fested in his works ! 

Noiselessly as a shadow, Felicitas glided into the room 
Frau Hellwig read on without seeing her. There, be- 


THE OLD MA M ’ SELLE ' S SECRET. 


17a 


i^atL the white curtains of the bed, which fluttered 
gently like wings in the breeze from the open window, 
as if they were waiting to receive and bear aloft the 
parting soul, lay a pale, pale face. Oh, how cruel death 
is, when, before snatching our dear ones from us to be 
seen no more on earth, he robs the well-known faces of 
their kindly loving looks, so that we see only what in- 
spires us almost with terror, where we have found 
hitherto only sympathy and affection ! 

The eyelids were not yet quite closed. The eyes rolled 
from side to side, and a low rattle was heard with every 
deep-drawn breath, — now and then the right arm was 
slightly lifted, only to fall again helplessly upon the 
covering of the bed. What a fearful sight for Felicitas, 
for whom the last ray of love that had lighted her life 
was about to be extinguished! She stepped up to the 
side of the bed. Frau Hellwig raised her eyes from her 
hymn-book, and great indeed was her astonishment as 
she saw the pale, tearless face which was bending above 
the dying woman. 

“What are you doing here? insolent creature l” she 
asked, in a loud, harsh voice, while she raised her large 
hand and pointed towards the door. 

Felicitas did not answer, — but the sudden cessation of 
the reading appeared to make some impression upon the 
dying woman. She seemed to try to lix her wandering 
gaze, — it fell upon Felicitas. For a moment there shot 
forth a ray of joyful recognition, — her lips moved, but no 
sound issued from them, — there was an evident painful 
struggle to say something, and yet the strong will com- 
pelled once more the service of the broken physical me- 
chanism, — “Bring a lawyer” issued thickly but distinctly 
from her lips. 

Felicitas instantly left the room. There was no time 
15 * 


m 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET. 


to be lost. She flew along the passage, — but just as she 
was passing the open door of the bird-room, she felt her- 
self violently impelled from behind by two strong hands, 
which pushed her with a sudden shock into the middle 
of the room, and then closed and bolted the door behind 
her. A startling clamour arose around her, the terrified 
birds flew hither and thither in the noisiest and most 
bewildering confusion. Felicitas had stumbled and fallen 
in the middle of the room, dragging down with her one 
of the fir-trees. What had happened? She arose and 
put back her hair, which had fallen loosely around her 
face. She had seen no one, had heard no footstep behind 
her, and yet some one had certainly been there, and 
thrust her in there with demoniac force just at a moment 
when she was about to fulfil the request of a dying 
woman, and when every instant of delay burdened her 
soul with a fearful weight of responsibility. 

She rushed to the door, but it was firmly bolted, — she 
knocked, and rattled the latch, but the loud noise made 
by the birds drowned all other sounds. The terrified 
little creatures wheeled above her head, flew wildly 
against the walls, and were scarcely pacified when the 
young girl dropped her hands at her sides and stood still 
in utter despair. Who would open the door for her? 
Certainly not the hands which had just bolted it upon 
her! She knew that iron grasp only too well; it was 
the grasp of the same hand which had just been holding 
the hymn-book; the book had been thrown aside that 
the young girl might thus violently be prevented from 
fulfilling her errand, and now the terrible woman was 
again sitting by the dying-bed, and her voice was again 
heard reading in the same loud monotonous tones. She 
could, without emotion, suffer the dying woman to strug- 
gle with and prolong the death agony in the vain hope 


THE OLD MA M' SELLE ’ S SECRET. 


175 


of still performing some last act of benevolence. Poor 
Aunt Cordula! She left the world, where she had led so 
lonely a life, with no pleasant farewell glimpse of it. The 
last impressions that her parting soul received were of 
religious fanaticism in the person of the woman whom 
she had loathed, and of the proverbial ingratitude of the 
world, W’hich Felicitas must have seemed to exemplify. 
At this last thought the blood rushed to the young girl’s 
head. She was beside herself, and attempted with re- 
doubled vigour to force the door — in vain. Why was 
she locked up here? Aunt Cordula had told her to bring 
a lawyer — had she a last confession to make? No, no, 
the old Mam’selle had nothing to confess! If she had 
borne the burden of guilt during her life, it was the 
guilt of others, — a burden fast falling from her now. 
This much had become gradually clear to Felicitas in her 
intercourse with Aunt Cordula, — that the old Mam’selle 
might be the repository, but never the accomplice, of 
some guilty secret. Perhaps she had wished to dispose 
of her property, and had thus been prevented by Ma- 
dame’s violence. If Aunt Cordula died without a will, 
her entire property w T ould revert to the Hellwig family, 
— who knows how many poor suffering human beings 
these moments of delay might rob of their future sup- 
port, while the storehouses and coffers of the merchant’s 
family, already wealthy, would receive new accessions 
through Madame’s cunning. 

Felicitas went to the window and looked around upon 
the neighbouring houses, anxiously searching for some 
human form which might respond to her cry for help, 
but all were too far beneath her, — she could neither be 
heard nor seen. IIow her pulses throbbed with agony 
of mind and feverish excitement ! She threw herself into 
the only chair in the room and burst into tears of despair. 


17b 


THE OLD MAM’SELLE'S SECRET. 


At all events it would now be too late, even if she were 
released at this moment. . Perhaps the dear eves in the 
next room were already closed, and the heart, which 
must have looked with such anxiety for Felicitas’ return, 
had throbbed its last. 

The young girl’s keen quick mind could find no conso- 
lation in the almost universal belief that the transfigured 
soul was at this moment conscious of all that had pre- 
vented the fulfilment of its last earthly desire. It is 
hard to believe that the human soul, which, like every- 
thing that God’s wisdom has created, obeys the law of 
gradual progress, and passes through countless phases 
before arriving at perfection, immediately upon release 
from its earthly prison, — is endowed with the Divine 
attribute of omniscience, and from beyond the grave 
reads like an open book all the actions and secret motives 
of those whom it leaves behind. 

Nearly two hours had been passed in her prison — con- 
sumed in gloomy reflection and despairing efforts to ac- 
complish her release. The place grew hateful to her. 
These senseless creatures which she had once delighted 
in, but which renewed their wild fluttering and shrill 
chirpings at every movement that she made, seemed to 
her excited fancy like supernatural existences, — she trem- 
bled at her own motions. The evening was falling, and 
twilight crept into the gloomy room — her heart was 
throbbing with its first wild pain for her dear lost friend 
— her senses seemed to be forsaking her ! Once more she 
ran to the door, and paused, overcome with amazement, — 
the latch yielded easily to her touch. Without, in the 
passage, deathlike silence reigned. Felicitas could almost 
have believed herself the victim of some frightful dream, 
if the door of the sitting-room had not been locked. 
Through the keyhole a strong draught of air was blowing 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. Iff 

—-she heard the rustle of the ivy upon the walls within — 
they had opened the window — all then was over, over! 

Below, in the front mansion, the old cook sat knitting 
at the open street door as was her custom, on fair sum- 
mer afternoons. From the kitchen came a strong smell 
of freshly-baked bread, — she had just taken from the oven 
a huge panful of the little biscuits which Madame liked 
to eat with her coffee. Everything down here was going 
on in its accustomed routine, while above, a member of 
the family had just left the world. 

Felicitas went into the servants’ room. Soon after 
Heinrich enterec . He hung his cap on its peg and then 
silently walked up to Felicitas and held out his hand with- 
out a word. His old weather-beaten face looked unut- 
terably sad, and his eyes were red with weeping; the 
sight of him was a relief to the paralyzed heart of the 
young girl, — she sprang, up, threw her arms around his 
neck, and burst into a passion of tears. 

“Didn’t you see her again, Fay?” he asked gently, after 
a pause. “Frederika says Madame closed her eyes — 
with those hands — that had never been kind to her! Of 
course you were out of the question — we all know how 
it would have enraged Madame if she had caught the 
slightest glimpse of you up there. But where have you 
been all this time?” 

Felicitas’ tears had ceased to flow. With flashing eyes 
she told him of what had taken place. He walked up 
and down the room like one possessed. . 

“Can such things be possible!” he cried again and 
again, running his thick hard fingers continually through 
his coarse, bushy gray hair. “And could our Father in 
Heaven allow it? Oh, Merciful Powers! If you should 
go before a magistrate, and tell it all, and accuse her, 
jou’d be sent directly home again because you have no 
M 


Its THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET . 

witnesses, and no one in the whole town would believe 
you, for she is the pious, worthy Frau Hellwig — and 
you, — Ah, she’s a sly one!” he interrupted himself with 
a grim laugh. “Just when the birds were screeching 
loudest she softly unbolted the door again. Yes, yes! I 
always knew it, she’s a perfect limb! And Fay, my 
poor child, she has robbed you. This morning the old 
Mam’seile sent me to request her lawyer to come to her 
— to-morrow afternoon she was going to make her will — 
for your sake. Oh, yes, ‘Who knows how soon my 
death may come?’ — she was cleverer than any of us — 
and would have shamed many a learned man with her 
wisdom, but she had never learned that verse of the hymn 
by heart, or she would not have put it off so long!” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

It was quite early the next morning when Frau Hell- 
wig appeared in the court-yard. She wore a black lace 
cap instead of the stiff white muslin one, the style of 
which had been unchanged for so many years. The 
worldly woman, who had so often desecrated the Sabbath 
of the Lord with her songs and frivolities, was dead, — 
even the form which had been the abode of that spirit of 
levity had vanished from the old house. The body had 
been already removed the previous evening to the under- 
taker’s. But in spite of all this, the dead woman had 
borne the name of Hell wig, and therefore Madame wore 
the black cap, and the crape collar which to-day replaced 
the stiff, white linen strip that usually surrounded her 
throat. 


TKE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


179 


She unlocked the door behind which Felicitas hud once 
Been the old Mam’selle disappear. Besides the well-known 
flight of stairs behind the painted door, another narrow 
winding staircase led directly up to the old Mam’selle’s 
dwelling from the steep street without. Here Hein- 
rich and her maid had always found entrance and 
egress. 

The marble busts still looked down unchanged from 
their brackets, but the genius of the place had fled from 
the room which Madame now entered with the air of a 
possessor. A cold, contemptuous smile hovered about 
her lips as she passed through the little suite of rooms, 
each of which revealed in its tasteful arrangement the 
poetic mind, the gentle spirit of its former inhabitant; 
but she contracted her brows with an expression of hate 
as her glance rested upon the rows of volumes in their 
costly morocco bindings upon the shelves of the various 
book-cases — those books which bore the names of the 
poets and authors who had been the old Mam’selle’s 
favourites. 

She picked up a large bunch of keys which was lying 
upon the table and opened a desk, apparently the most 
interesting article of furniture in the room to her. The 
most thorough order reigned in all the drawers and boxes. 
She opened each and took out bundles of letters, yellow 
with age, and tied with faded ribbon, and piles of manu- 
script. The large white hands thrust them back again 
impatiently — what interest could all that ‘trash’ have for 
Madame ? — she was not curious. But a box, containing 
de^ds and legal documents, was treated much more re- 
spectfully. With the greatest care and an expression of 
much inward satisfaction Frau Ilellwig unfolded paper 
after paper. She was an excellent arithmetician. In a 
very few moments she had counted, added, and multiplied. 


180 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


and was entire mistress of the amount of the old Mam’- 
selle’s property, — it exceeded her expectations. 

But she was by no means at the end of her search, — 
she now examined the contents of all the different closets, 
wardrobes and trunks, and as she proceeded, she became 
more hurried and impatient. Gradually her face grew 
flushed, — her clumsy figure wandered from room to room, 
— her hands rumaged recklessly in the linen-presses — 
tossed about the delicately folded laces and caps of the 
departed, and moved the porcelain and glass in the cup- 
boards so carelessly that they rang again, — but what she 
sought was not to be found. At last, greatly irritated, 
she stepped out into the gallery. With her clumsy, awk- 
ward movements she overthrew several flower-pots, and 
scattered flowers and leaves in every direction, — but she 
paid no attention to the mischief that she was doing — she 
was too much preoccupied even to bestow her usual 
amount of contempt upon the ‘useless trash.’ 

Frederika was feeding her fowls below. Frau Hellwig 
called down to her to send up Heinrich, and stepping 
back into the rooms, began her search anew. 

“Do you know where the old Mam’selle kept her 
silver?” she asked, addressing Heinrich immediately 
upon his entrance. “ She must have had a great deal, — 
I know about it from my mother-in-law. There were at 
least two dozen heavy large spoons, and the same num- 
ber of heavily gilt teaspoons, besides silver candlesticks, 
a coffee-pot, and a cream pitcher.” The enumeration 
rolled glibly from off her tongue as though it had been 
well committed to memory. “I can find none of these 
articles, — where can they be?” 

“I do not know, Madame,” replied Heinrich quietly. 
He stepped up to a table, opened a box upon it, and took 
out two silver dishes. “This is all the silver of the old 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


181 


Mam’selle’s that I have ever seen,” he said, — “I had 
to clean it often, for the maid did not make it bright 
enough.” 

Frau Hellwig bit her lips and walked heavily up and 
down the room. The stern reserve which she usually 
retained before her servants forsook her for a moment. 

“It will be a fine thing — a perfect shame — if the old 
woman has sold this valuable family silver, or perhaps 
— given it away, — it would have been just like her!” she 
continued as if to herself. “ She had diamonds too — some 
very beautiful jewellery — everything which the Hellwig 
family ever possessed of the kind, was divided between 
her and my mother-in-law.” She paused suddenly, and 
her eyes rested upon the old cabinet with the glass doors 
that held the portfolios of music. She had not yet searched 
that. 

The lower part of this cabinet was closed by massive 
doors of richly carved wood. She tore open these, and 
searched the shelves, which were filled with carefully- 
arranged magazines and periodicals. 

The hard malicious smile appeared on her face, dis- 
closing her strong well-preserved teeth. She dragged out 
one pile after another, throwing them with such haste 
upon the floor that the single sheets flew all about the 
room. 

The old servant was boiling with rage. He clenched 
his fists and looked savagely at the Vandal. He had 
brought all those papers and pamphlets from the post 
himself, — they had been the intellectual food of the old 
Mam’selle, — how well he remembered the sparkle of her 
kindly eyes as he laid a new book upon her table ! 

“These are all arch-enemies of our church!” she mut- 
tered. “These blasphemous sheets! — these devilish in- 
ventions! Yes, yes, she has led a life of sin, the misera- 

16 


182 


TIIE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


ble old maid ! — and I have been forced for so many years 
to endure this ungodly creature beneath my roof!” 

She arose and looked through the glass doors of the 
cabinet. At sight of the music a sort of harsh discordant 
laugh broke from her. She opened the doors, and told 
Heinrich to bring a clothes-basket, into which she ordered 
him to put all the music-books and portfolios filled with 
notes. Heinrich racked his brain with guessing what 
was to be the fate of these beautiful books which had so 
often lain upon the piano, and from which the old Mam’- 
selle had read such exquisite music. Madame stood be- 
side him and took care that not a scrap was left behind ; 
she herself did not touch a single sheet — it almost seemed 
as if she were afraid they would burn her fingers. 

Then she ordered the old servant to carry the basket 
down stairs. She carefully locked all the doors in these 
rooms, and followed him. To the vexation of Frederika, 
who always dreaded her visits, she went into the kitchen, 
where Heinrich deposited his burden and was then sent 
into the sitting-room for a paper-knife. The old cook had 
just made up a blazing fire. 

“You will not need so much wood to-day, Frederika,” 
said Madame, throwing one of the loose sheets into the 
flames. The beautiful portfolio containing the old Mam’- 
selle’s costly collection of autographs lay upon the top of 
the basket. The silk ribbons with which it was tied to- 
gether were loosened one after the other by Madame’s 
large determined fingers, and ah ! how eagerly the blazing 
fire devoured them ! There a red flame played around the 
name of ‘Gliick’ — the notes of a brilliant cadenza of Cim- 
arosa’s glowed like fiery pearls, — all, Italian, German, 
and French, enveloped in the same burning shroud, sunk 
peacefully to rest. 

Heinrich stood looking on at first in utter bewilder- 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


183 


ment, choking with rage. The body of his dead friend 
was not yet consigned to the earth, and this unfeeling 
woman was already abusing and destroying what had 
belonged to her — more roughly than a common soldier 
in a hostile country. 

“But, Madame,” he said at last, “perhaps there is a 
will!” 

Frau Hellwig looked up at him. Her face, scarlet with 
the heat of the fire, expressed mingled displeasure and 
contempt. 

“ Since when have I allowed you to utter your opin- 
ions in my presence?” she asked sharply. In her hand 
she held the manuscript operetta of Bach’s which the old 
Mam’selle had lately declared to be worth its weight in 
gold, as it was the only copy in existence. With in- 
creased energy and a singular look upon her countenance, 
she cut and tore at the leaves, thrusting them all into the 
hottest part of the fire. 

At this moment the bell at the street door rang loudly. 
Heinrich weni to open it. An official, accompanied by a 
lawyer, entered. He bowed to Madame, who came from 
the kitchen in much surprise, while he introduced him- 
self as the legal commissary, who had been sent to seal 
up the property of the deceased Cordula Hellwig, spin- 
ster. 

Perhaps for the first time in her life Frau Hellwig lost 
her iron self-possession and presence of mind. 

“Seal up?” she stammered. 

“She has left a will with her lawyer.” 

“That must be a mistake,” she returned. “I know 
for a certainty that according to her lather’s will she was 
powerless to make one, — her property all reverts to the 
Hellwig family.” 

“I am very sorry,” said the official, shrugging his 


18* 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


shoulders. “The will exists, and although I greatly re* 
gret being obliged to trouble you, my duty compels me 
to persist, and place seals upon her effects immediately.” 

Frau Hellwig bit her lips, took the keys of the rooms 
under the roof, and preceded the unwelcome visitors. 
But Heinrich ran up-stairs exultingly to Felicitas, w T ho 
was fulfilling her duties as nurse — although, to Anna’s 
amazement, she sat mute and stiff as a statue to-day be- 
side her chattering little charge. The old servant told 
her all that had happened. At his description of the auto 
da fe she started up. 

“Were they single sheets that she burnt?” she asked 
in a choking voice. 

“ Yes, single sheets. They were all in blue portfolios, 
tied with beautiful ribbons ” 

She did not wait to hear any more, but hurried down 
to the kitchen. There stood the basket, it still contained 
some music and some exercises for the piano, but the 
portfolios were lying open and defaced upon the brick 
floor, not a sheet of their contents remained. The draught 
had blown out of the fire a little scrap of paper which was 
lying upon the hearth. Felicitas picked it up, — * The MS. 
composition of Johann Sebastian Bach, written by his own 
hand, and received from him as a remembrance , 1707. 
Gotthelf v. Hirschsprung ,’ she read with streaming eyes. 
It was the last remains of the mysterious manuscript. 
The melodies were hushed forever 1 

Apparently, Frau Hellwig had not intended at first 
that her son’s pleasure-trip should be interrupted on ac- 
count of the death of the old Mam’selle, but when the 
business of sealing up was over, from which she returned 
in an extremely provoked and irritated mood, she wrote 
a hasty note recalling him. For, according to Aunt Cor- 
dula’s directions, her will was to be read the day after 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


185 


the funeral. To enable her to listen to it Madame needed 
some support, she had never in her life seemed to possess 
so little self-reliance. The terrible idea of the probable 
loss of a considerable property which she had always re- 
garded as eventually her own, had a most depressing 
effect even upon her iron nerves. 

The pleasure party had started without any definite 
plans as to where they should first proceed. The pro- 
gramme was : * a pleasure excursion wherever we please, 
with pleasant halts where the woods are greenest. ’ And 
accordingly Frau Hellwig could not direct her letter with 
any precision. The search that Madame had begun in 
the rooms under the roof she now continued in her de- 
ceased husband’s study. Surely among the family papers 
the proof could be found that the old Mam’selle had no 
right to will away her inheritance as she pleased. Per- 
haps indeed her own savings had accumulated. Madame 
had suspected as much on the previous evening, and had 
trusted in the bolt of the bird-room to preserve these 
savings also to the Hellwigs. But although Madame 
pondered and tried to remember, she could not recall or 
discover why the conviction was so strong in her mind 
that Aunt Cordula had no control over the disposition of 
her inheritance. Whether she remembered it as a direc- 
tion in the will of Cordula Hell wig’s father, or whether 
she had been assured of it upon sufficient authority, she 
did not know, but convinced she was; and there must be 
papers in existence which would reveal why, and which 
she must search for. She searched and read until the 
perspiration stood upon her pale forehead, — to-day was 
an unlucky day — the afternoon’s exertions, like those of 
the morning, were entirely without result. Fortune 
usually delights to cast her roses at the feet of cold- 
blooded, calculating, unimaginative people — it seems al- 
16 * 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


186 

most as if she thought her treasures less safe with richly 
endowed, generous natures, than with those whose souls 
are as tightly closed as their money-bags. Madame had 
hitherto been one of fortune’s favourites, and was all the • 
more provoked and surprised by this unlucky day. 

Two days had passed. Madame’s letter was apparently 
travelling in the well-crammed mail-bag through the 
green valleys of the Thuringian forest, and the old 
Mam’selle was borne to her last resting-place, without 
one of the name of Hellwig to see her coffin laid in the 
ground. 

Felicitas bore her sorrow silently with that self-control 
which belongs to strong natures. She did not know the 
weakness that finds consolation for grief in constantly 
speaking of it. From her childhood she had been accus- 
tomed to struggle through every trial alone and to let 
her inward wounds bleed sorely, without allowing those 
around her to suspect their existence. She purposely 
avoided looking upon the dead face of her dear old friend. 
The last conscious glance of the dying woman had been 
a farewell look — she would have no memory of that dear 
face uninformed by the light of life. But on the afternoon 
of the day of the funeral, when Frau Hellwig had gone 
out, she took down a key which was hanging in the serv- 
ants’ room, — it unlocked the corridor upon which opened 
the old lumber room, which the reader has already seen. 
Madame’s increase in size and weight during the last few 
years had made her very averse to mounting the upper 
flights of stairs, and the keys to the upper rooms had 
consequently been handed over to the cook, who had free 
ingress here. 

Aunt Cordula must and should have fresh flowers laid 
upon her grave — but only those which she herself had 
nourished. The rooms under the roof were all, with the 


THE OLD MAH' SELLERS SECRET. 187 

exception of the bird-room, locked and sealed up, and 
there was therefore no way of getting through the house 
to the flower-garden, which the carelessness of the officials 
had thus left exposed to neglect. After nine j^ears, Felici- 
tas now stood once more at the window of the garret- 
room, and looked across to the flowers on the roof. How 
much lay between that wretched day, when her wounded 
childish heart had rebelled against God and man, and to 
day! Over there she had found a home. The lonely occu- 
pant of those rooms had taken the despised player’s child 
to her large, noble woman’s heart, and had warded off 
every blow from her with the weapons of her cultivated 
intellect. There the child had studied diligently, and a 
new life of the mind had opened before her. He who was 
at present wandering through the Thuringian forest with 
a brilliant party of friends, did not dream that his won- 
derful schemes — based upon narrow prejudices and false 
views of duty — would be made of no avail by two little 
feet tripping lightly along those tumble-down gutters on 
the edge of the roofs. 

And now she must tread that path again! Felicitas 
got out of the window and walked bravely across — the 
firm even floor of the gallery was soon beneath her feet. 
Those poor flowers which were so unconsciously waving 
their heads in the gentle breeze were far worse off than 
the lilies in the fields. Magically suspended in air, as it 
were, they knew nothing of the nourishing soil — nothing 
of the warm, fresh mother-earth which takes to its kindly 
heart the tenderest fibres of the most delicate flowers, as 
well as the gnarled roots of the mightiest oak — their 
weal or woe had depended upon two little withered white 
hands, which were now folded under ground, and would 
soon crumble into dust. The orphaned plants could not 
yet know their loss — it had lately rained several times 


188 


THE OLD MAM’SELLE'S SECRET. 


in the night, and they were flourishing and blooming 
gorgeously. 

Felicitas pressed her face against the panes of the glass 
door and looked into the room. There stood the little 
round table — the knitting lay in a basket upon it, as 
though it had just been put down to be resumed imme- 
diately. Directly across an open book lay the spectacles 
— Felicitas could read the page which was open — the last 
‘intellectual pleasure which the old Mam’selle had had in 
this world had been Antony’s speech, in Shakspeare’s 
Julius Caesar. There stood the beloved piano, and on 
one side glimmered the glass panes of the old cabinet, but 
the shelves were empty — the old piece of furniture had 
proved but a faithless guardian of its musical treasures, 
which it had yielded up to the ruthless despoiler, and 
which were now devoured by the flames; but it had 
tightly clutched other treasures. Madame had sought 

in vain for the old Mam’selle’s silver, and Felicitas 

suddenly started. The secret depository in the cabinet 
contained not the silver only — in one corner was a little 
gray pasteboard box. “It must die before me,” Aunt 
Cordula had said , — was it destroyed? It was on no ac- 
count to fall into the hands of her heirs, and yet how 
averse she had been to consign it to destruction herself! 
It was more than probable that it was j^et in existence. 
If the will revealed where the silver was to be found, 
possibly a secret might come to light which Aunt Cor- 
dula had guarded from the whole world with iron determ- 
ination — this must never be. 

The glass door was bolted from within. Felicitas, 
without a moment’s hesitation, broke one of the panes, 
and felt for the bolt. It was not slipped — the door had 
been Rocked and the key taken from the keyhole — a dis- 
heartening discovery. A passionate impatience took pos- 


THE OLD MAM SELLERS SECRET. 


389 


session of the young girl at the thought that fate always 
stepped in to prevent any service that she wished to ren- 
der Aunt Cordula. There was now, mingled with hot 
grief for the departed, anxiety for the future. Could the 
contents of the little gray box effectually crush all whis- 
pers of any guilt attached to the old Mam’selle? Or 
might they not be sufficiently incomprehensible and mys- 
terious to cast a darker shadow upon her memory? 

She hastily gathered a large bouquet, put two jars of 
auriculas, Aunt Cordula’s favourite flowers, into her 
basket, and retraced her steps across the roof, with a 
much heavier heart than she had brought with her. 

And now she had three graves in the large quiet 
grave-yard. The earth covered those who had loved her, 
and to whom her warm heart had clung with the fondest 
affection. She looked bitterly towards heaven when she 
had strewn and planted the flowers upon Aunt Cordula’s 
grave. There was no one left now to be taken from her. 
Her father must have been long dead — his bones were 
crumbling in some foreign land, — here, upon a marble 
monument, was the name in gilt letters, ‘ Friedrich Hell- 
wig? and there — she walked over to her mother’s grave, 
which, thanks to the tender kindness of the old Mam’selle, 
had for the last nine years been covered with exquisite 
flowers as soon as spring opened. To-day the head-stone 
was lying upon the ground. Heinrich had declared a short 
time before that the letters upon it needed renewing, and 
probably the stone had been taken up by his orders. Jt 
had before sunk so deep into the ground that the name 
could be deciphered only with difficulty, but now of course 
every letter was plain enough. ‘ Meta d’ Orlowska? Fe- 
licitas read, her sight dimmed by tears, — but there was 
another name below it, which had hitherto been entirely 
covered with earth. The black colour of the letters was 


L90 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


of course faded, — but they were cut in the sandstone, and 
geb. von Hirschsprung , from Kiel , 1 could be deciphered 
without trouble. 

Felicitas sunk into a reverie. This was the name which 
had been written upon Bach’s manuscript- — and it had 
also been borne by the noble Thuringian family whose 
crest was so often found carved upon the walls of the old 
merchant’s mansion, — the little silver seal too, which 
Felicitas had discovered in her embroidered pouch long 
ago, showed the same leaping stag, — what a riddle it all 
was! The haughty race whose crest it had been, and 
whose last scions had been driven by poverty to spade 
and hoe, had utterly vanished. Heinrich had known the 
last one of the name, — he had been a student at Leipzig, 
and had died young, and unmarried. And yet, fourteen 
years before, a young creature from the far north had ap- 
peared here whose maiden name was the same. Had a 
branch been torn from the old Thuringian parent stem to 
take root in a distant country? Let the haughty knight 
whose enduring image gazed upon the altered world from 
the walls of the Hellwig mansion rise from his leaden 
coffin and wander over this grave-vard : various stones 
bear his name carved upon them, and beneath them are 
resting men with labour’s hard horny hands, men who 
earned their bread in the sweat of their brows, although 
he left behind him the parchment rolls which should con- 
firm the rights and claims of his family to all eternity, 
and closed his eyes in the unshaken delusion that the 
lofty blood, the aristocratic hands of his posterity could 
never be degraded by hard labour. Let him stand by 
this grave which covers a daughter of his house who had 
wandered hither from afar. The bread that she ate was 
bitter indeed. Hers was a despised calling, and had de- 
stroyed her blooming body. How incomprehensible are 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


191 


the changes which, in the history of an individual family 
as well as of the world, show here heaven-ascending 
heights and there yawning abysses, which a few years 
may once more level and connect 1 

Were any of Felicitas’ relatives still living? The 
young girl, when she asked herself this question, replied 
with a bitter smile, at all events they did not exist for the 
daughter of Meta von Hirschsprung. They had been 
twice publicly appealed to and had not responded. Per- 
haps this branch of the old race had preserved its original 
purity until the time when a daughter of the house be- 
stowed her heart and hand upon the juggler and was 
rejected and ignored forever by all with whom she was 
connected. So much was certain — her child would never 
cross the threshold of those who could publicly disclaim 
all relationship to the juggler’s wife. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

Felicitas, after leaving the grave-yard, did not return 
directly to the house on the market-square. Rosa and 
Anna were awaiting her in the garden, whither Frau Hell- 
wig was also coming later in the afternoon, to take the 
evening meal beneath the shade of the acacias. Madame 
had apparently recovered her outward composure; the 
only change in her was that she went out much more fre- 
quently than formerly. She seemed to feel the necessity 
of some variety and distraction in her life while waiting 
for her son’s return. 

. She appeared to desire to ignore entirely her meeting 


192 


THE OLD MAMSELLE'S SECRET 


with Felicitas by the old Mam’selle’s bedside. She had 
evidently not suspected the young girl’s previous intimacy 
with Aunt Cordula, but had regarded Felicitas’ intrusion 
as the result of curiosity, which would most certainly have 
met with a severe rebuke under other circumstances, but 
was passed over without further allusion in view of the 
subsequent occurrences of that a’fternoon, which were best 
forgotten as soon as possible. 

Felicitas had made almost the entire circuit of the little 
town, and now stopped before a garden-gate. She drew 
a long breath, and then with quick decision lifted the latch 
and opened it. It led into the garden belonging to the 
Franz family. The young girl had now been thrown back 
entirely upon her own resources. Although her heart was 
torn and bleeding, her inward suffering had no effect upon 
her hard-won decision of character. The heavy blows of 
misfortune could not long paralyze the clear understand- 
ing which confronted the inevitable with calmness; the 
mists of sensibility and enthusiasm had never for one mo- 
ment clouded her reason. 

The gentle distinguished old lady in the white cap who 
had accosted Felicitas a few days before was sitting 
writing in a shady arbour. She instantly recognized her 
visitor, and beckoned to her to approach. 

“Ah, here comes my young neighbour, and wants some 
good advice, does she not?” she asked with winning kind- 
ness, making room for the young girl on the seat beside 
her. Felicitas told her that at the end of three weeks she 
should leave the Hellwigs, and be in need of some em- 
ployment. 

“Will you tell me, my child, what duties you can un- 
dertake!” asked the lad}^ regarding Felicitas kindly with 
the large honest eyes which reminded one vividly of her 
son’s. The girl blushed scarlet. At last she must speak 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


193 


of her long-guarded secret, and display her accomplish- 
ments and attainments as a peddler does his wares. It 
was a painfal duty, and yet it must be done. 

“I think I can give thorough instruction in French 
and German, in geography and history,” she replied with 
hesitation. “I have also had excellent instruction in 
drawing. I am not a thorough musician, although I 
could teach the rudiments of singing,” — her hearer’s eyes 
opened wide with astonishment — “and then I can cook, 
wash, and iron, and if need be, scrub.” These last ac- 
complishments came much more glibly from the young 
girl’s tongue than the first had done. 

“You do not certainly wish to remain here in our good 
little town of X ?” asked the lady with interest. 

“I cannot say that I wish to stay here for any length 
of time, but there are graves here that are very dear to 
me. I cannot leave them immediately.” 

“Well, then, let me tell you something. My sister’s 

dame de compagnie in D is going to be married ; her 

place will be vacant in about six months. I can easily 
procure it for you, and until then you must stay here 
with me. Do you consent?” 

Felicitas, overcome with surprise and gratitude, kissed 
the kind old lady’s hand, but then stood up and looked 
wistfully into her eyes. It was evident that some re- 
quest was hovering upon her lips ; the old lady instantly 
noticed it. 

“ There is something else on your mind, my child. If 
we are to be together for a time, we must be open and 
candid with each other. Come, tell me what it is,” she 
said encouragingly. 

“I wish to ask you to give me a definite office in your 
household, even although it should be a most menial 
N IT 


194 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


one, and only undertaken for a few months,” Felicitas 
answered hastily and with decision. 

“Ah, I understand! You are tired of eating bread 
which is indeed hardly-earned, and which — let us be 
frank — is notwithstanding looked upon as given in 
charity.” 

Felicitas assented. 

“ Well, you shall occupy no such humiliating position 
in my house, you dear proud child. I now engage you 
as my companion. You certainly shall not wash and 
iron and scrub; but you must undertake a general super- 
intendence of the household, and give the orders in the 
kitchen, for I and my old Dora are growing feeble to- 
gether. Will you not?” 

“Ah, how gladly!” For the first time since Aunt Cor- 
dula’s death a happy smile hovered about the grave young 
face. 

A delicate sunbeam that had played up and down upon 
the shady walk in front of the arbour was suddenly extin- 
guished — the sun was declining. Felicitas remembered 
that she must be at her post in the garden when Frau 
Ilellwig arrived, and therefore begged leave to retire. 
The old lady dismissed her with a warm pressure of the 
hand, and a few minutes afterward she stood in the ad- 
joining garden with little Anna in her arms. Frederika 
shortly appeared; she carried a heavy basket of crock- 
ery, and looked greatly heated. 

“They came an hour ago,” she cried quite out of breath, 
and very much out of temper, as she deposited her burden 
on the ground. “The fact is, everything is turned topsy- 
turvy with us now. Madame told me when she saw the 
carriage coming across the Square that I must get every- 
thing ready to stay in the town this afternoon. Just as 
1 have got everything in order, as sh» told me tlu» Pro- 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


195 


fessor insists upon going out to the garden here, and so 
I had to pack up everything and drag out.' 7 

Then she rushed away to the beds to cut a few heads 
of salad. 

“Oh, they’ve had a time there, I can tell you — a dis- 
graceful time!” she said in a low voice as Felicitas stood 
by her in the kitchen dressing the salad. “ Madame would 
hardly say, ‘ how do you do V she was so full of the story 
of the will. I’ll tell you what, Caroline, I never have 
seen our Madame as raging as she was to-day in my 
whole life. And the young master talked like a fool all 
the time. He declared that the old aunt had been dis- 
owned by the family, who had never troubled themselves 
about her living or dying, and he could not see how peo- 
ple who despised her could pocket her money. The idea 
of her property had never entered his head. And when- 
ever Madame stopped to take breath, he persisted in ask- 
ing about the family, whether every one had been well 
during his absence. Oh, he looked queer enough ; and 
there was the young widow with her dress as if the rats 
had gnawed it!” 

As usual, Felicitas made no reply to the old cook’s 
gossip. She took her sewing and sat down under the 
chestnut-tree, while little Anna played upon the grass 
at her side. Through a gap in the cypress wall that 
stretched like a curtain before her, she had a full view of 
the garden-gate. This gate, with its delicate cast-iron 
tracery framed in on each side by blooming wild rose- 
bushes, and opening into the garden from the avenue of 
dark-green lindens that stretched beyond it, had always 
possessed a mysterious charm for the young girl. How 
many forms had appeared and disappeared through this 
gate, — some kind friendly faces which she had once run 
joyfully to meet, — but others there had been, at sight of 


196 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SEC.IET. 


which her heart was chilled, and behind which as they 
retreated the peculiar creaking, jarring noise of the clos- 
ing gate had been music in her ears. Yet never had she 
so thrilled with sudden terror and strange pain as at this 
moment when Madame, leaning upon her son’s arm, and 
followed by the Councillor’s widow, entered the garden. 
What had she to fear from those people? Madame, for 
the most part, ignored her existence, and the man by her 
side had relinquished all attempt to convert her to his 
views — those views in accordance with which she was a 
despised outcast in the world. 

Frederika had said he looked ‘queer enough,’ and Fe- 
licitas herself thought she remarked something strange 
in his appearance. No one could connect the idea of 
haste with the careless motions and air of indifference 
that characterized him in everyday life, — and yet it was 
the only word that Felicitas could have used in describ- 
ing his present manner. He was evidently trying to 
walk quickly — an utter impossibility with his mother’s 
clumsy figure hanging upon his arm, — and with head 
erect he scanned the entire garden, — naturally he was 
anxious to see his patient again. 

Rosa came running along the paved walk to get little 
Anna, and Felicitas followed the two for a few steps that 
she might see from behind the first cypress screen the 
meeting between the mother and child. The Councillor’s 
widow, ’tis true, took the child fondly in her arms, and 
kissed and patted its cheeks, but all the while she was 
scolding Rosa for having brought away the key of her 
room in her pocket so that she could not perform any 
toilette, but had to walk through the town in ‘this horrid 
dress.’ The becoming travelling-dress had indeed lost 
some of its original colour, and hung above the crinoline 
limp, and much bedraggled about the hem. 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


197 


“Yes, to the very last this excursion has been, and I 
shall always maintain it, the most stupid expedit: on im- 
aginable l” said the young widow peevishly, and pouting 
visibly as she drew together with a needle and thread a 
rent in the unfortunate dress. “I wish I had stayed at 
home with you, aunt, in your quiet room! We had a 
thousand unlucky accidents. Let me tell you, whichever 
way we went we came upon a shower of rain, — and then 
this cousin Bruin of mine was in such a bad humour all 
the time! You have no idea, aunt, how rude and — 
charming he was! He wanted to turn round and come 
back the very first day. And such trouble as we had to 
clear up his cloudy face now and then ! Fraulein von 
Sternthal took up the matter with such intense interest, 
that I expected every minute she would either make him 
a declaration of love or extort one from him. Now say, 
John, — was she not all amiability and attention ?” 

Felicitas did not hear the Professor’s reply. She had 
already returned to the chestnut-tree, and was sewing 
diligently in the hope that she might escape notice. They 
did not look pleasantly. The deep flush of violent ex- 
citement could still be seen upon Madame’s cheeks, — 
and the ill humour that the journey had produced in her 
son seemed not to have been improved by his reception at 
home. 

For awhile it appeared as though the lonely sempstress 
beneath the chestnut-tree would certainly be allowed to 
remain unmolested in her retirement; only once she lifted 
her eyes and saw through the gap in the cypress wall the 
figure of the Professor. He was sauntering down a 
gravel walk with his hands behind him, but the expres- 
sion of his face contradicted the negligent indifference of 
his manner, — it was excited, expectant, — and he looked 
17 * 


198 


THE OLD MAM' SELL E’S SECRET. 


searching ly down all the shady walks and behind the 
green old walls. 

Felicitas sat still and watched him; involuntarily she 
laid her right hand upon her beating heart, — she was 
afraid of the moment when she should be discovered by 
him. More and more slowly he walked up the broad 
gravel path that encircled the lawn. His head was bare 
— was it his strange excited expression, or was the 
healthy colour gone from his cheeks? — the young girl 
thought him altered. 

He reached above into the boughs of an apple-tree, bent 
down one of the branches, and looked with great interest 
at the growing fruit, — he could not have seen the girl be- 
neath the chestnut-tree yet. The bough snapped up 
again, and he pursued his way. He was coming directly 
towards Felicitas, — he stopped and plucked something on 
the edge of the grass. 

“See, Felicitas, it is a four-leaved clover,”’ he said 
quietly, without looking up. It sounded as unrestrained 
and easy as though his intercourse with her had never 
been interrupted or troubled, as though she would natu 
rally be found sitting under the chestnut-tree, — but still, 
something in his manner chained her to the spot. 

“Men say these four leaves bring good fortune to him 
who finds them,” he continued, coming quickly towards 
her. “Well, let me see now how much of the saying is 
pure superstition!” 

He stood before her. In his bearing there was a cer- 
tain tension, as if the man were summoning to his aid 
the whole force of his strong will. The clover leaf fell 
from his hands, — he stretched them both out to Felicitas. 

“Good evening!” The voice vibrated which spoke 
these two^common words. Oh, if he had only used this 
tone long ago to the child nine years old, whose p'^ion- 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET, . 


199 


ate little heart was longing for love and sympathy! "To 
the sad brooding heart of the girl whom he had so long 
misunderstood, the confidential greeting which revealed 
unmistakably the delight of return, was too unintelligible. 
But she raised her hand, she, the Pariah, who had de- 
clared she would reject his aid even though he sought to 
save her from imminent death, for one moment placed 
her right hand in his, — overcome by some mysterious ir- 
resistible power. It was a kind of miracle, and as such 
he seemed to regard it — one unguarded look or motion, 
and it might fall from his grasp forever. With all the self- 
control that he could command, he took a different tone. 

“Has little Anna given you much trouble?” he asked 
kindly and sympathizingly. 

“On the contrary, the child’s dependent state touches 
me — I like to take care of her.” 

“But you are paler than you were — and those melan- 
choly lines around your mouth seem to me more deeply 
graven than before. You say the child’s dependent state 
touches you, — others are dependent, too, Felicitas! I 
will prove it to you. I am sure you have not wasted a 

thought upon those who fled from the little town of X , 

seeking new strength for mind and body in the invigor- 
ating air of the wide forest?” 

“ I had neither time nor inclination for such thoughts,” 
she said, blushing deeply. 

“I know it. But it was otherwise with me. I thought 
of you. Let me tell you when and where. I saw a noble 
young fir-tree growing all alone upon a rocky cliff, it 
looked as if it had been wounded and made sore in the 
forest at its feet, and had fled to this lonely height. There 
it stood fixed and gloomy, and my fancy lent it a human 
face, with familiar, proudly-disdainful eyes. A tempest 
arose, the rain drenched its branches, and the storm tossed 


200 THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 

and beat it pitilessly, but after every attack it reared it* 
self again and stood more proudly than before.” 

F elicitas raised her eyes and looked at him half-shyly. 
half-defiantly. lie had come back strangely altered. This 
man with the cold steel gray eyes, the former devotee and 
ascetic, the ingrained conservative in whom law and the 
letter must have smothered every spark of poetic free- 
dom — he, the pedant, who wearied of a song sung by a 
human voice, and was supposed to use his own only in 
the service of science, was telling her, in deep melodious 
tones, a kind of fairy story, composed by himself, and the 
significance of which she could not misunderstand. 

“And only imagine,” he continued, “there I stood in 
the valley watching it through the tempest, while my 
companions jeered my folly in not seeking safe shelter. 
But they did not know that the shy, awkward physician 
was contemplating a vision that no chilling rain or driv- 
ing storm could banish or destroy. For he saw a bold 
traveller leave the wood below, climb up the lonely cliff, 
and throw his arms around the lofty fir, saying, ‘You are 
mine!’ And what happened then? ” 

“I know what happened then,” the girl interrupted him 
in a low, muttering tone, “the lonely tree was true to 
itself, and used the weapons which nature had provided 
it with.” 

“Even when it saw how he longed to take it close to 
his heart, Felicitas? Though it knew that it could rest 
there safe from all storms, and that he would cherish it 
tenderly as the apple of his eye all his life long?” 

The narrator had evidently become inspired by a kind 
Df passionate interest in the fate of these creatures of hi^ 
fancy, for he spoke with quivering lips, and there awoke 
in his voice all those tones which had so touched Felicitas 
hy the bedside of the sick child — but they were powerless 
now. 


THE OLD HAM’SELLE'S SECRET. 


201 


“The lonely tree must have known too well that be 
was telling it only fables,” she replied coldly. “You say 
yourself that it braved the attacks of the storm — it must 
have been firm and strong, and could need no other sup- 
port I” 

It had not escaped her that he was growing deadly 
pale — for some seconds every trace of colour left his 
cheeks. He seemed about to turn and go away, but 
steps were heard approaching. He stood still close by 
Felicitas, and calmly awaited his mother, who stepped 
through the gap in the hedge upon the ar ai of his cousin. 

“Well, upon my word, John,” she remonstrated, “here 
you are, keeping Caroline from her work and letting us 
wait an unconscionable time for supper. Do you think I 
shall be pleased if the biscuit are overbaked?” 

The Councillor’s widow left her aunt’s side and came 
across the grass to Felicitas. She was not looking as 
well as usual, — the light curls were hanging about her 
face in great disorder, she was flushed, and there was a 
malicious fire in her eyes. 

“I have not yet thanked you, Caroline, for the care 
you have taken of little Anna in my absence,” said she. 
The words should have been friendly, but the soft voice 
was sharper than usual, the tone was almost shrill. “But 
you are sitting there like a lonely hermit under the chest- 
nut-tree — how could I know where you were? Have 
you often played this retiring, interesting part lately? It 
would explain in a measure my finding Anna upon my 
return so shamefully neglected. I have been scolding 
Rosa for it. Her hair has not been attended to at all, 
and her skin is so tanned that she looks like a Hottentot 
child, and I am afraid that she has overheated herself.” 

“Have you no other reproach for her nurse, Adele? 
Think for a moment!” said the Professor with a sneer. 


202 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


“Perhaps it is her fault that your child is not healthy — 
possibly she was the cause of the showers in the Thuringian 

forest which have spoiled your temper, who knows ” 

he stopped, and turned away contemptuously. 

“No, you had better not finish your sentence, John,” 
said the young widow, struggling with tears of anger. 
“It seems to me that you don’t care any more what you 
say to me, I did not mean to offend you, Caroline,” she 
turned to the girl, “and to show you that I did not, I 
beg you to take Anna home and keep her with you to- 
night, I am really worn out and ill with our journey.” 

“No, that cannot be!” said the Professor sternly. 
“The time is past for these endless sacrifices. Adele, 
you are too willing, you understand too well how to use 
other people, you must now take upon yourself the charge 
of your child again.” 

“Yes, I am glad to hear it!” cried Frau Hell wig from 
where she stood, “for then the girl can weed these beds 
to-night thoroughly — I cannot well require Heinrich or 
Frederika to do it any longer, they are growing too old.” 

The Professor’s face flushed. Difficult as it was usually 
to decipher those strange features, they now showed un- 
mistakable shame and embarrassment. Perhaps he had 
never until this moment appreciated fully the position in 
which he had helped to place this young gifted creature. 
Felicitas left her seat beneath the chestnut-tree. She 
knew that Madame’s few words were equivalent to a 
command, and that if she did not wish to be loaded with 
biting reproaches she must instantly obey. But the Pro- 
fessor stepped up to her. 

“I believe my word as guardian is needed here,” he 
said, with apparent calmness, “and I do not wish that 
you should perform labour of this description.” 

“Ah — would you like to enclose her in a glass case?’- 1 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


203 


asked Madame stepping her huge foot upon the grass 
and advancing with more speed than usual. “ She has 
been brought ap strictly in accordance with your direc- 
tions, — strictly. Shall I show you your letters, where 
you repeated again and again until 1 was almost tired of 
seeing the words, that she was to be brought up to serv- 
ice, and that she must be subjected to strict discipline?” 

“I have not the smallest intention of disclaiming an 
iota of what has been done according to my express de- 
sire,” replied the Professor firmly, but gloomily, “nor 
can I deny that I did what I did from honest motives, 
and in the full conviction that I was acting for the best, 
— but I trust I shall never be guilty of the weakness of 
persisting in what I have discovered to be an error, for 
fear of the consequences — therefore I wish now to declare 
that my views are changed, and that of course I must act 
differently.” 

The Councillor’s widow stooped as she heard the last 
words. She plucked a lonely clover-leaf which the scythe 
had spared, and tore it to pieces. But Madame laughed 
contemptuously. 

“Don’t make yourself ridiculous, John,” she said with 
a cold sneer. “At your age a man does not adopt a new 
set of ideas. Those which he has must be decided and 
strong, or his life will be a failure. Besides, you are not 
the only one who has had to do with this matter. I have 
done my part, and I should think that the proof might 
be found in my life that, by the grace of God, I have 
always done what was right. I shall be sorry indeed if 
the Hellwig weakness is about to manifest itself in your 
character, for, should it do so, I might as well tell you at 
once, we must be strangers to each other for the future. 
As long as the girl lives in my house, she is subject to 
my commands — she shall spend not one idle minute, if 1 


204 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


can prevent it, — but after she leaves me she may be as 
useless as she chooses, for all I care, — fold her hands in 
her lap and play the lady.” 

“That she will never do, Madame Hellwig!” said 
Felicitas, glancing at her hands, which were exquisitely 
shaped, but tanned and hard with labour. “ Labour is 
one of the conditions of her life. Will you have the 
goodness to point out to me the beds which you wish 
weeded?” 

The Professor, who had received his mother’s coarse 
attack with entire composure, turned hastily to Felicitas, 
and regarded her wrathfully: 

“I expressly forbid you to do it!” he cried harshly and 
with decision, and a stern frown contracted his brow. 
“And if as your guardian my command is powerless to 
combat your stubborn determination, let me as a phy- 
sician appeal to your reason. You have over-exerted 
yourself with nursing little Anna. Your whole appear- 
ance shows it. In a very short time you will leave my 
mother’s house, — it is our duty to take care that you at 
least carry a healthy physique with you into your future 
sphere of action.” 

“That,” said Madame, “is a sensible reason, which 
carries weight.” To her ears, after waiting in vain to 
hear her son reprove Felicitas, the words ‘stubborn de- 
termination’ were actually like music. “Let her go to 
the house now — I don’t care” — she added, — “although I 
cannot see how all the nursing she has had to do should 
have done her any harm. She is young, and has always 
been well fed. Look at other girls in her position, John, 
— they work day and night, and yet what red cheeks 
they have!” 

She took the young widow’s arm, and went back across 
the lawn, evidently expecting that her son would follow 


THE OLD MAM'SELLES SECRET. 


205 


her, — and the young' widow, in a pouting, cross mood, 
evidently avoided looking back for him. At first he 
seemed to be about to accompany them — but he turned 
back after a few steps, and as the last glimpse of the 
unfortunate blue dress disappeared behind the cypress 
hedge, he slowly approached the chestnut-tree, and stood 
for a few seconds silently beside Felicitas, who was tying 
the string of her straw hat beneath her chin. Suddenly 
he stooped and looked under the broad brim of the hat, 
which entirely shaded the girl’s forehead and eyes. The 
irritation that was still visible in his face melted away as 
he looked at her. 

“You do not know that you have pained me to-day 
more than I can tell you?” he asked, shaking his head, 
and as gently as though he were speaking to a child. 

She was silent. 

“Felicitas, I cannot for one instant believe that you 
are one of those women who delight in hearing a man 
sue humbly and repeatedly for forgiveness.” 

She arose. The pure maidenly face flushed painfully. 

“ Such entreaties, it seems to me, are always most pain- 
ful to those to whom they are addressed,” she answered, 
after a pause, in a gentler tone than she was accustomed 
to use to him. “1 would not willingly listen to them 
from any one who was not my companion — my friend. 
Children should ask forgiveness of a parent. I should 

not like to see the case reversed. Nor should I ” she 

paused, but the blush still coloured her cheeks. 

“Nor would it be any gratification to you to see a man 
continually humble himself before you, Felicitas. Am I 
not right?” he concluded her unfinished sentence quickly, 
and something like hope sounded in his voice. “But to 
carry out such lofty views as yours would bring about 
evil results,” he continued, after a moment’s silence. 

18 


216 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


“And now be truly kind, and consider whether it be not 
a woman’s duty to extend her hand in aid to a man, and 
assist him to extricate himself from the error which he 
acknowledges 1 Stop, I do not want an answer now, — I 
see in your eyes it would not be the one that I wish to 
hear. I will wait patiently, — perhaps the time may 
come when the angry fir-tree upon the rock will not use 
its weapons.” 

He left her. Upon the ground at her feet lay the four- 
leaved clover which had fallen from his hands, and which 
had been plucked as a symbol of good fortune. It lay 
upon the closely-cut lawn with all its four leaves delicately 
spread out. She would not pick it up — she had nothing 
to do with his good or evil fortune — but she made a wide 
circuit around it, — she would not absolutely trample the 
little green prophet under foot. 


CHAPTER XX. 

After a series of lovely days full of sunshine and 
spring breezes, a leaden stormy sky hung above the little 

town of X . The dull clouds seemed almost to touch 

the top of the lofty tower, whose round white shaft shot 
up into the air, surmounted by a brilliant green point, 
like a stalk of asparagus. On such days, under such a 
dark sky, the old merchant-house in the Square seemed to 
partake once more of the gloomy grand character of its 
ancestral times, when grim portraits of robber knights 
adorned its walls — and a breath from the middle ages 
seemed to sweep through its lofty rooms. 

To-day the curtains were closed before the window » of 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


207 


the rooms in the front of the house inhabited by the Coun- 
cillor’s widow. Their lovely tenant was suffering with 
headache, and was in such a state of uncontrollable ex- 
citement, that her rooms were darkened and every sound 
near them hushed. The stern face which was seen behind 
the asclepias plant from year’s end to year’s end, did not 
appear to-day. The gray skies above seemed to bode evil 
— and, indeed, this day was to be one of the grayest and 
gloomiest in Madame’s experience, — it was the day of the 
reading of the old Mam’selle’s will. Her two sons only, 
with old Heinrich, had been summoned to appear by the 
lawyer, — it would seem that Madame’s existence had been 
entirely ignored in the matter, — but Nathanael was absent 
and his mother appeared in his stead. 

Towards noon she returned to the house in the Square, 
accompanied by the Professor, while Heinrich followed at 
a respectful distance. Sudden deaths and dangerous ill- 
nesses among her friends and connections had been pow- 
erless to affect any change in Madame’s appearance in 
public, — her strong will, which would not bend, her evi- 
dent piety preserved her marble features in their tearless 
repose, even in the presence of such visitations of Provi- 
dence. How often had she seemed to some writhing, de- 
spairing soul, robbed of its dearest treasures, a revelation 
of saintly resignation ! But to-day there was presented to 

the little town of X an unwonted spectacle. This 

model of invincible composure had undergone a change. 
Her features were undeniably flushed with agitation — 
the deep solemnity of her usual gait was perceptibly 
altered, and she moved with unseemly haste, while the 
words which she addressed to her son walking silently 
at her side, though whispered, were evidently none of the 
gentlest. 

Notwithstanding her headache, the young widow had 


2C8 


THE OLD MAM'SEI ^E’S SECRET. 


been peeping from between the curtains of her room, upon 
the watch for their return, and as soon as they entered the 
house she came down stairs — with pale cheeks and heavy 
eyes, *tis true, but most charmingly dressed — to hear the 
results of the morning. They all entered the sitting-room 
together. 

“ Well, congratulate us, Adele,” cried Madame, with a 
bitter laugh, full of malice and contempt. “ She has left 
property worth forty-two thousand thalers, and not one 
cent to the Hellwig family, to whom the money all be- 
longs by right! The will is the craziest piece of work 
that can be imagined ; but it cannot be touched — we must 
not say one word to prevent such injustice — and all be- 
cause the men of the family have had not one particle of 
energy, — matters would have been different if I had been 
the head of the house ! I cannot understand how my de- 
ceased husband — without having the smallest security — 
could leave that old woman up there under the roof to do 
just as she pleased.” 

The Professor was walking up and down the room with 
his hands clasped behind him. His brow was clouded, 
and from beneath the thick eyebrows he shot lightning 
glances of displeasure, as his mother w~as speaking. At 
last he stood still before her. 

“ Who insisted that our old aunt should be banished to 
those rooms under the roof?” he asked, gravely and point- 
edly. “ Who strengthened the former head of the house, 
my father, in his prejudice against her, and so strictly for- 
bade us children ever to approach or have any intercourse 
with our old relative? You did this, mother. If you 
wished to inherit her property, you should have pursued 
a different course!” 

“ How ! do you think I could ever have been upon terms 
of intimacy with her ? I — who have walked in the fear of 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE S SECRET. 


209 


the Lord my whole life long — have anything to do with 
that guilty woman, who desecrated the Sabbath and had 
no religion ! She knows now that the Lord has turned his 
face away from her forever. No power upon earth should 
have compelled me to hold any intercourse with her. But 
she should have been declared of unsound mind, and 
placed in confinement — there were fifty ways in which 
your father could have done sol” 

The Professor’s face grew white — he looked at his 
mother in absolute terror, took his hat and left the room, 
without another word. He had had a glimpse of a fright- 
ful abyss. And this stubborn religion of the letter — this 
pietistic arrogance, beneath which such boundless spiritual 
pride had been at work — had surrounded his mother, in 
his eyes, like a halo of light. This was the character 
which had so long seemed to him the model of feminine 
perfection! He confessed to himself that he had once 
held the same views which were entertained by his 
mother and the relative who had been the guide of his 
youth — yes, he had even gone beyond them in intolerance 
and devotion to forms — he had beeu unwearied in the 
work of proselytism, seeking to compel all to walk in the 
path which he himself was treading, and w r hich he had 
believed to be the only one leading to salvation. And 
that poor innocent orphan girl, with her brain full of 
bright hopeful visions, and her proud honest heart — he 
had seized her with an iron grasp, and had thrust her 
into that cold dark region. How she must have suffered 

that nightingale among ravens 1 He covered his eyes 

with his hand as if he were giddy, slowly ascended the 
stairs, and shut himself up in his lonely study. 

While the above was taking place in the sitting-room, 
a like scene of excitement and irritation was going on in 
O 18* 


210 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


the serv infs’ room. The old cook was flying about with 
her cap-strings streaming and fluttering, but Heinrich 
withstood the storm of feminine passion, like a rock in the 
midst of the ocean. He had on his Sunday coat, and his 
features expressed a strange mixture of joy, sorrow, and 
a sense of the ludicrous. 

“Don’t think I’m envious, Heinrich — that would be un- 
christian!” cried Frederika: “I don’t grudge it to you! — 
Two thousand thalers!” She clasped her hands, wrung 
them, and let them fall again. “You have much more 
luck than wit, Heinrich! Ah! good Heaven — here have I 
been working all my life long, going to church all winter 
on the very coldest days, and praying God to send me 
some good fortune — and I’ve never had any luck, while 
you’ve got all this! Two thousand thalers! it’s a perfect 
mine, Heinrich ! But I can’t help thinking of one thing 
— can you take the money with a clear conscience? The 
old Mam’selle ought not to have willed away a penny of 
her money — it all belonged by good rights to our peo- 
ple, — and when you come to think of it, it would be 
actual stealing to take it, Heinrich. I don’t know exactly 
what I should do in your place, but ” 

“I’ll take it — I’ll take it, Frederika,” said Heinrich, 
with great composure. 

The cook ran into her kitchen and slammed the door 
behind her. 

The old Mam’selle’s will, that had elicited so much 
emotion in the Heilwig house, had been deposited with 
her lawyer ten years before. It had been written by the 
testator herself, and after the usual formal introduction 
read in effect as follows: 

‘ 1. In the year 1633, Lutz von Hirschsprung, a son of 
Adrian v. Hirschsprung, who was murdered by Swedish 
soldiers, quitted tl e town of X to settle elsewhere 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


2U 


To the direct descendants of this branch of the old noble 
Thuringian stock, I bequeath — 

‘a. Thirty thousand thalers. 

l b. The golden bracelet, upon which are engraved 

certain verses' in old German, surrounded by 
a wreath of flowers. 

l c. Bach’s manuscript copy of his opera. It will be 

found among my autographic collection of 
famous composers, in portfolio No. 1, and is 
inscribed with the name — Gottlielf von Hirsch- 
sprung. 

‘I herewith direct my lawyers to make an appeal, re- 
peating the same if necessary, through the public jour- 
nals, to any existing descendants of the afore-mentioned 
branch of the Hirschsprung family. Should such appeals 
be without result, and no claimant appear, it is my wish 
and will at the end of a year that the above-mentioned 
capital of 30,000 thalers, together with the proceeds of 
the bracelet when sold, and of the Bach manuscript also 
to be sold, be handed over to the worthy mayor of the 

town of X , to be by him appropriated as a fund to 

the following purpose : 

‘2. The yearly interest of the capital safely invested, 
shall be divided in all future time equally among eight of 

the teachers employed in the public schools of X , in 

such a manner that all the public school teachers shall 
receive a portion in regular rotation without favour or 
partiality. Directors and professors have no claim. 

1 1 dispose of my property thus in the firm conviction 
that it will be of as much use as if I should call into ex- 
istence with it a new institution. The office of public 
school teacher is as yet only the stepchild of the State, — 
the men whose exertions are so useful in building up 
what must be our national bulwark, are still exposed to 


212 


THE OLD MA 3E BELLE ’ S SECRET. 


pressing pecuniary anxieties, while they enrich tl ousancls 
by their mental labour. May the eyes of others be opened 
to this dark shadow in the advancing light of our times, 
and may others aid in exalting and supporting a calling — 
at present so often under-rated! 

‘3. Whatever I possess in silver plate and jewellery, 
with the exception of the afore-named bracelet, reverts to 
the existing head of the Hellwig family, as old heirlooms 
which must not fall into the hands of strangers, as well 
as everything which I possess in the way of furniture 
and linen. 

1 4. My manuscript autographic collection of celebrated 
composers, with the exception of the afore-mentioned Bach 
manuscript, will be sold by my lawyers. The proceeds 
of the sale I devise to my two grand-nephews, John and 
Nathanael Hellwig, in token of the sorrow I have always 
felt in not being allowed to send them gifts at Christ- 
mas.’ 

Various legacies to poor mechanics and others followed, 
to the amount of 12,000 thalers, among which was the 
legacy to Heinrich of 2000, and one to her maid of 1000 
thalers. 

Heinrich related to Felicitas as correctly as he could 
the contents of the will. There was no mention made of 
the place where the old Mam’selle kept her silver — that, 
at least, she gathered from his account, and was rejoiced 
indeed. Now, if the secret repository were not discov- 
ered by accident, it would be in her power to destroy the 
little gray box before any other mortal eyes should rest 
upon it. 

“I shall always lament it, Fay!” said Heinrich sadly, 
as they sat alone together in the servants’ room. “Now 
you have nothing in the world! If the old Mam’selle 
had only lived twenty-four hours longer, she would have 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


213 


made another will, and you would have had heaps ol 
money, — she loved you dearly . !’ 

Felicitas smiled. The self-confidence of youth, which 
never dreams of sordid cares for daily bread, or of pro- 
viding for a helpless old age, beamed in that smile. 

“It is better as it is, Heinrich,” she replied. “Those 
poor people whom Aunt Cordula has taken care of, want 
the money more than I do, — and depend upon it, she had 
reasons for the disposition that she has made of the bulk 
of her property, which would have held good with any 
other will that she might have made.” 

“Yes, yes, — there’s some strange connection with the 
Hirschsprungs !” said Heinrich thoughtfully. “ I remem- 
ber old Hirschsprung very well, — he was a shoemaker — 
he made my first pair of boots. I shall never forget them. 
He lived in the little street there at the side of the house. 
And so it came about that his boy and our old Mam’selle 
played together sometimes when they w T ere children. The 
boy became a student afterwards, and people said was a 
’over of our old Mam’selle’s. And they say, too, that 
this love affair — and this is what provokes me — hurried 
old Herr Hellwig, her father, into his grave. He could 
not endure the thoughts of it, — and they say that once he 
got so angry with her about it, and she provoked him so, 
that he fell dead upon the spot, — if it’s true, I don’t be- 
lieve it. A little while afterwards the old Mam’selle 
went to Leipzig, — the student had a nervous fever, and 
she stayed there and nursed him until he died. All her 
relatives were raging about it, — they declared that her 
character was gone, and they cast her off. The people 
here followed their example, and no one went near her 
when she came back at last. However all that may be, 
it seems to me very odd that those people should be her 


214 


THE OLD MAM’ SELLERS SECRET. 


heirs vi ho went off so long ago, — they had gone long be- 
fore the student was born. I can’t understand it.” 

The following day the seals were removed from the 
rooms under the roof. 

Dreary days followed. The uniform gray tints of the 
skies were unbroken by any ray of sunlight. Day and 
night the rain dropped upon the roofs and pavements, 
and the dragons’ heads on the old house poured down 
torrents of water in the Square below, — they looked an- 
grier than ever, those distorted wide-mouthed faces, — 
and the discoloured flood that splashed upon the pave- 
ment below might have been poisonous gall; for had they 
not been looking in all these years upon the swelling 
treasures which poured into the chambers and coffers of 
the old house, while but a thin stream had ever flowed 
back again into the world? And now, — ’twas un-heard- 
of, — a large sum of money was to leave this house for- 
ever, and the stout old walls and the iron figure behind 
the asclepias plant had no power to retain it. 

Felicitas spent these rainy days for the most part in the 
letirement of the chamber next to the servants’ room. 
She had been, probably by the Professor’s express desire, 
relieved from all hard household labour, — but she sat al- 
most buried in huge piles of linen, mending. She must 
not eat the bread of idleness. 

Without, in the court-yard, the fountain in the corner 
bubbled monotonously, — the rain fell without cessation, 
pattering upon the broad leaves of the coltsfoot growing 
there ; sometimes the crow of a cock was heard from the 
adjoining poultry-yard, — or the gray tone of colour that 
brooded over all was broken by two or three doves, who 
would light upon the dripping stones and spread their 
feathers to receive the rain. Light, sound, and motion 
all seemed muffled — dulled ; and the universal gloom was 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


215 


apparently shared by the pale young girl sitting at the 
bow-window. True, the hand with its thimble moved 
regularly and without intermission, — but the exquisite 
profile bending over the work never stirred from its posi 
tion. Life, with its. fearful experiences, had thus far 
failed in stamping any impress of suffering or submission 
upon those beautiful features, — they had only grown 
paler, as if they were stiffening into marble, wearing the 
same proud expression of unconquerable power of re- 
sistance. 

But beneath the coarse dark dress an anxious heart 
was beating, — and while the hand mechanically repaired 
many a rent, the mind was tortured at the thought of 
severe tasks and of the hard struggles that must ensue. 
For the lawyers had also searched in vain for the old 
Manfselle’s silver plate and antique bracelet. At first 
the circumstance had acted soothingly upon the girPs 
disturbed and anxious mind ; but Heinrich had since then 
been in a state of the greatest distress. Frau Hellwig 
had informed the commission, with ambiguous glances 
and unmistakable emphasis, that Heinrich and the maid 
had for years been the only persons possessing free ad- 
mission to the old Mam’selle’s apartments, — and upon 
this declaration, which looked very much like an accusa- 
tion, the honest fellow had immediately been subjected to 
a most degrading examination. He was beside himself. 
What a trial it was for Felicitas, to see the grief of her 
faithful old friend without allowing one word of her 
secret to pass her lips ! Quiet and thoughtful as he had 
always been, his composure seemed entirely to forsake 
him before such an accusation, — and she justly feared 
that, in the fearful pressure of his anxiety to free himself 
from the horrible suspicion, he might commit some indis- 
cretion. which would be unfortunate indeed just at this 


216 THE OLD MAM' SELL E\ S SECRET. 

time, when so much caution was needed to preserve the 
old Mam’selle’s secret. 

It was now doubly difficult to visit the rooms under 
the roof. The Professor had gone through them on the 
day when the seals were removed, in a state of the great- 
est astonishment, and had immediately taken formal pos- 
session, as the head of the house, of the habitation of 
the mysterious old aunt. Perhaps, at sight of the origi- 
nal and tasteful arrangement of the rooms, his eyes had 
been suddenly opened to the character and pursuits of 
his disowned relative. lie would not have a chair moved 
from its place, and was greatly provoked when he saw 
the Councillor’s widow take a needle out of a pincushion. 

He seemed determined to spend as much time as pos- 
sible, during the remainder of his stay with his mother, 
in the rooms under the roof. He only came down stairs 
at meal-times, — and then, as Frederika declared, 1 looking 
as cross as a bear.’ 

But the Councillor’s widow, she, too, had been seized 
with a kind of passion for the ‘ charming quiet asylum,* 
and she begged her cousin to allow her, as a special fa- 
vour, frequently to share it with him. Bosa swept the 
floor, and the young widow removed the dust from the 
furniture with her own fair hands. Thus Aunt Cordula’s 
room was scarcely ever unoccupied,— and besides, the 
Professor had taken care that the antique lock of the 
painted door should be replaced by a new one, to open 
which Felicitas’ key was of course useless; there was no 
way of ingress for her except over the roofs. 

At the thought that she should be obliged to steal into 
the rooms like some midnight thief, she shook her head 
with disgust,— and this perpetual watching for + he first 
moment when their unsuspecting inhabitants should leave 
them, was abhorrent to her. Nevertheless, she held most 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


217 


firmly to her determination, and a cold shudder ran 
through her whenever she thought that two weeks were 
all the time now left in which to accomplish the task. 

At last the rainy days seemed over. A piece of clear 
blue sky hung above the square court-yard — the coltsfoot 
dried its well-washed leaves in a most refreshing breeze 
— the swallows, whose nests were hanging thick under 
the eaves, constantly flew in and out, their shining little 
backs actually sparkling in the pure warm sunshine. It 
was a day to spend in the open air. Perhaps they would 
take the evening meal in the garden to-day, and then the 
path over the roofs would be free. But this hope of Fe- 
licitas’ was not fulfilled. Immediately after dinner, Rosa 
came to the bow-window to tell her that she must take 
little Anna to the garden — the Professor had promised 
the child she should go. The other members of the family 
would follow later in the afternoon, and take their supper 
there. 

And soon Felicitas was walking, with the child by her 
side, in the lonely garden. Instead of the slates of the 
roofs and the wooden floor of the gallery, she had be- 
neath her feet the gravel of the sunny garden paths. 
During the rainy weather, thousands of roses had come 
into bloom. In the broad flower-beds were rare species 
of roses rearing their lovely buds with crimson-velvet 
leaves proudly above the humbler flowers, like the royal 
purple above a crowd of subjects — while in the vegetable 
garden the more common but exquisitely fragrant anti- 
folia grew everywhere among the plants, and mingled its 
delicious breath with the commonplace odour of dill and 
sweet marjoram. 

Felicitas passed by the gorgeous flowers with her head 
sunk upon her breast, holding little Anna by the hand, 
and the sympathetie little child limped along silently, in- 

19 


213 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


terrupting the reverie of her kind friend by no childish 
prattle. With wild burning pain, Felicitas thought of 
the roses of other years, — how much sweeter was their 
fragrance, how much more brilliant their beauty, when 
Aunt Cordula’s dear kind eyes were still beaming, as on 
still Sunday afternoons she read aloud many a delightful 
page from her rich library to the pupil at her side, who 
listened eagerly to the melodious voice, while from the 
flowers around the sweetest fragrance floated on the air, 
and the fair land of Thuringia lay spread out before 
them ! Then gradually the sweet sensation of home had 
risen in the girl’s soul — she felt that she belonged in the 
peaceful, happy rooms where she was cherished and 
guided by motherly love — where, if only for a few hours, 
she was free, unfettered in her actions and thoughts, en- 
couraged to speak of whatever arose in her mind, — no 
wonder the roses were fairer and sweeter, and the whole 
world was flooded with golden sunshine ! 

She raised her head and looked across the hedge into 
the next garden. There she saw the spotless white cap 
of Madame Franz. The old lady was seated at a table 
with her son, taking her coffee. She was leaning com- 
fortably back in a fauteuil and knitting, while he read 
aloud to her. The scene was peaceful and homelike. 
Felicitas said to herself that, among such kindly culti- 
vated people, she should be once more to a certain degree 
free, that it was impossible that with them she could 
ever be degraded to a hard-working automaton, whose 
hands never rested, but whose eyes and lips must never 
betray the existence of an active, self-reliant mind. 

And yet in spite of these thoughts her melancholy 
mood remained unaltered. Even before Aunt Cordula’s 
death, there had been a secret corner of her soul which 
was entirely unintelligible to her — a dull pain that van- 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE S SECRET. 


219 


ished like a phantom, if she attempted to analyze it. All 
she knew with any distinctness about it was that it had 
grown out of the presence of him who once was her chief 
oppressor. She had, it is true, before his arrival, been 
convinced that the sight of him would intensify her dis- 
like and bitterness, — but she had not dreamed that these 
sensations would so react upon her as to produce this 
mysterious state of mind which made her a riddle to her- 
self. 

Now and then, the reader’s voice in the next garden 
would make itself heard. It was indeed a clear, full- 
toned voice — but there was in it none of that delicate 
modulation, that melodious intonation, which years had 
so wonderfully developed in the former monotonous 
voice of the Professor. Felicitas threw back her head. 
Why should she make the comparison? She forced her 
thoughts into another channel, and occupied herself with 
considerations fraught with intense interest to her, and 
upon which she had pondered much since the reading of 
Aunt Cordula’s will. The young lawyer, Franz, had 
been constituted, by the legal authorities of the town, 
curator to the Hirschsprung heirs, if any such heirs yet 
existed. The summons to them had been made for two 
days through the public papers. Felicitas was awaiting 
the result with feverish impatience— it might bring her 

bitter pain. If any Hirschsprungs from K should 

appear in answer to this call, which held out hopes of a 
rich inheritance, her supposition that the wife of the jug- 
gler had been disowned by her family would be con- 
firmed. But what kind of people could they be whose 
affection for one of their nearest relatives had so died out 
that even the tragical death of the juggler’s wife could 
not revive it 1 Felicitas, therefore, had not based a single 
hope upon the possible appearance of her near relatives 


220 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS* S SECRET. 


— for them she could never have an existence ; but her 
heart notwithstanding throbbed wildly at the thought of 
a possible meeting between the cruel grandparents and 
their unknown silent grandchild. 

Madame Franz had observed Felicitas across the 
hedge. She arose and came forward, supported by her 
son. Both greeted her cordially, and the young lawyer 
expressed his pleasure in the prospect of future inter- 
course with her as a member of his mother’s household. 
And then they passed to other topics of conversation. 
Something like embarrassment took possession of the 
travelled man of the world, as he talked with this young 
girl who had led so secluded an existence, — and yet who 
looked so fearlessly and seriously into his eyes while she 
gave utterance to the most original opinions. They con- 
versed long and earnestly, touching upon a wide variety 
of topics. At last Madame Franz asked after the health 
of the child, and Felicitas took little Anna in her arms 
and pointed with delight to the delicate colour — the tinge 
of health that was just appearing upon the pale cheeks. 

As they parted, the old lady held out her hand to Fe- 
licitas, — her son too stretched his right hand over the 
hedge, and Felicitas frankly laid her own in it. Just at 
that moment the gate creaked upon its hinges, and the 
Professor entered the garden. He stood still for a few 
seconds, as if rooted to the spot, then slowly lifted his 
hat and bowed gravely. The young lawyer opened his 
lips to address him, but he turned abruptly away and 
went into the summer-house. 

“Well, that really was done like a genuine absent- 
minded philosopher,” said young Franz, laughing, to his 
mother. “My good friend, the Professor, certainly has 
his brain filled with some unfortunate patient, — at such 
times he hardly recognizes his best friends.” 


TEE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


221 


Mother and son went back to their coffee, and Felicitas 
sought protection and shade under the hedges and trees 
upon the lawn. 


CHAPTER XXL 

The tall screen of the green cypress-hedge afforded an 
excellent protection from the sun, from the wind, which 
had just begun to blow with some violence, and probably 
from the reproachful glances directed towards Felicitas 
from the summer-house. She knew the Professor’s face 
too well not to be sure that he had been vexed and irri- 
tated, but not absent-minded. She thought too that she 
perfectly understood the cause of his displeasure. He ex- 
acted the most implicit obedience to his medical directions, 
and was, according to Rosa’s account of his practice in 
Bonn, accustomed to have his wishes respected. He had 
repeatedly, and with some irritation, forbidden Felicitas 
to carry little Anna, — and yet when he entered the gar- 
den she had the child in her arms. Thus only could she 
explain the irritated surprise that his face expressed upon 
his entrance. 

Felicitas seated herself upon a mound upon the distant 
dam. A lonely birch-tree was growing here — its smooth 
white trunk crowned by the falling branches, which made 
a kind of arbour around it. The wind was scarcely to be 
felt in this sequestered spot — only now and then the tall 
grass trembled as if drawing a deep breath, and the 
boughs overhead rustled gently. But the brook swollen 
by the recent rains rushed noisily by, its gurgling dis- 
coloured waters swirling boisterously about the roots of 
the hazel-bushes on its brink. 

19 * 


222 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


The child plucked with its poor little awkward fingers 
a quantity of buttercups, and brought them to Felicitas 
that she might tie up the poor things, broken off close to 
the flower, into a short-stemed nosegay for ‘Uncle Johu.’ 
This tedious task required patience and attention, — Fe- 
licitas’ eyes were busy with the bouquet in her hands, 
she did not see the Professor come through the gap in 
the cypress-hedge and advance quickly towards her 
across the wide lawn. Little Anna’s exclamation at his 
approach first made her look up, — he was already stand- 
ing beside her. She would have risen, but he put out his 
hand and gently detained her, and then without a word 
he seated himself beside her. 

For the first time she utterly lost her self-possession 
in his presence. Four weeks before she would have 
rejected his hand with aversion and left him instantly, — 
now she sat there as if paralyzed, as if beneath the spell 
of a magician. It provoked her that he had lately adopted 
such a familiar, unconstrained tone in speaking to her, — 
she longed for nothing more ardently than to show him 
that she thoroughly hated and despised him as she had 
always done, — but suddenly courage and words both 
failed her to tell him so. She shyly glanced up at his 
face — he looked anything but provoked or angry, — the 
flush of displeasure was gone. Felicitas was irritated to 
be obliged to confess to herself that the power and determ- 
ination in those irregular features impressed her against 
her will. 

He sat for a few moments beside her without speak- 
ing. She felt, although she could not see, that be was 
regarding her fixedly. 

“Do me the kindness, Felicitas, to take that ugly thing 
off of your head,” he at last broke the silence, and his 
voice sounded calm, almost gay, as, without waiting for 


TILE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


223 


the young girl’s consent, he gently lifted the faded worn 
hat from her head, and flung it contemptuously upon the 
grass. Through the quivering birch-leaves a sunbeam, 
which had hitherto played upon the old straw hat, now 
rested upon the girl’s chestnut hair — a tress sparkled like 
spun gold. 

“So — now I can see the angry thoughts at work be- 
hind your brow,” he said with a slight, sad smile. “I 
cannot bear the idea of a battle in the dark — I want to 
see my foe, — and that I have a bitter one there,” he 
pointed to her forehead, “I know only too well.” 

To what would this strange introduction lead? Per- 
haps he expected an answer from her, but she was per- 
sistently silent. Little Anna was, with untiring assiduity, 
heaping her lap with buttercups, daisies, and grass, and 
she tied them diligently together without the slightest 
attempt at grace or symmetry. Those lingers that would 
not be delayed in their work, had lost much of their 
brown colour during the several days spent in the retire- 
ment of the bow-window — they were really rosy. The 
Professor took her right hand, opened it, and looked 
gravely at the palm — there were traces there of hard 
labour which it would need more time to obliterate. The 
girl who at the express command of her stern guardian 
had been brought up to servitude, had undeniably done 
her best t-o fit herself for a life of labour. 

Although during this examination a deep blush over- 
spread Felicitas’ cheeks, — very sensitive natures are as 
much affected by a close observation of the palm of the 
hand^as of the features of the face, — she recovered at 
this moment all her former self-possession. She looked 
up, and he slowly let her hand drop — then he rubbed his 
forehead several times, as if seeking words for an embar- 
rassing thought. 


221 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


“You liked to go to school, did you not?” he asked 
suddenly. “Mental occupation gives you pleasure?” 

“Yes,” she replied with astonishment. The question' 
sounded strangely — it was so very abrupt. But spite of 
the command of language that this man possessed, diplo- 
n atic ambiguity was foreign to his nature. 

“Well,” he continued, “1 hope you have thought 
sometimes of what I said to you the other day?” 

“I remember what you said.” 

“And have certainly arrived at the conviction that it 
iu a woman’s duty faithfully to assist a man who desires 
to retrieve an error?” He leant his elbow on his knee, 
bent forward, and looked eagerly into her face. 

“Not exactly,” she answered decidedly, letting her 
bands with the bouquet fall in her lap, and looking her 
interrogator full in the face. “I must first know how he 
wishes to retrieve the error.” 

“Subterfuges!” he murmured, — and his face darkened 
perceptibly. He seemed to forget that he had hitherto 
spoken in generalities, and he continued with irritation. 
“You need not be so frightfully upon your guard. I can 
assure you that no one who could see your face at this 
moment would dream of requiring anything superhuman 
of you. The question simply is that you should — what- 
ever your future plan of existence may be — remain under 
my guardianship a year longer, and devote this time to 
pour mental improvement. Let me speak,” he said with 
a, frown, raising his voice as he saw she was about to 
interrupt him, “forget that it is I who propose this plan 
to you, and only remember that, in caring for your men- 
tal culture, I do just what my father would urnst certainly 
have done if he had lived.” 

“All this comes much too late.” 

“Too late? At your age?” 


TIIE OLD MAM'SELLE’S SECRET. 


225 


“You misunderstand me. I wish to say that as a 
helpless, irresponsible child, I was forced to accept oi 
charity, — this I have been obliged hitherto to submit to. 
But now I stand upon my own feet, and I refuse to 
accept a penny which I do not earn.” 

The Professor bit his lips, and contracted his brows so 
that his eyes almost disappeared. 

“I anticipated this reply, ”\he said coldly,— “for I am 
thoroughly aware of your unconquerable pride. My 
plan is this, — I will lend you the means lor the necessary 
instruction, and later, when you are independent, you 
shall pay me back, if you choose, every penny of the 
money. I know of a most excellent school in Bonn, and 
am family physician to the cultivated instructress who 
has charge of it. You would be well taught there, and,” 
he added, with a slight tremor in his voice, “a separa- 
tion never to meet again would be postponed for at least 
a little while. In fourteen days my holidays will come 
to an end. I shall go back with my cousin to Bonn,— it 
will be the most natural thing in the world for you to 
accompany us thither. Felicitas, I entreated you the 
other day to be good and kind, — let me repeat the en- 
treaty. Do not listen to the whispers of wounded feeling. 
I pray you to forget, if only for a few moments, the past, 
—and let me redeem, as far as I may, my error.” 

She had listened uneasily. As before, while relating 
his so-called vision, there was a certain fascination in the 
tones of his voice. He was not as evidently excited as 
before,— but the sincere, honest repentance which he so 
frankly and seriously expressed without in the least 
compromising his manly dignity, touched her in spite of 
herself. 

<<If x still possessed the right of deciding what my life 
for the next year should be,” she said more gently than 
P 


226 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


she had ever spoken to him, “I would unconditionally 
and willingly accept your offer, — but I am not free to do 
so. The day upon which I leave Frau Hellwig’s house 
will open for me a new sphere of action.” 

“Unalterably?” 

“Yes, — my word once given is sacred to me. I never 
change or tamper with it, although to keep it cause me 
the greatest inconvenience.” 

He arose and stepped beyond the shelter of the birch- 
tree. 

“And may I now be permitted to ask what you intend 
to do?” 

“Oh yes,” she replied with entire composure. “I 
should have told Frau Hellwig, if I had had an oppor- 
tunity. Madame Franz has engaged me as her com- 
panion.” 

These few words acted like a thunderbolt. The Pro- 
fessor turned short round — his eyes flashed lightning. 

“The lady over there?” he asked, pointing toward the 
next garden, as though he could hardly trust his ears. 
“Dismiss any such project entirely from your mind,” he 
said with decision and an air of command. “I will never 
give my consent to it !” 

The young girl arose with a defiant gesture — the care- 
fully plucked flowers fell to the ground. “Your con- 
sent?” she said proudly. “I do not ask it. In fourteen 
days I shall be free, and can go wherever it pleases me.” 

“The case is altered, Felicitas,” he said, controlling 
himself. “I have more right over you than } r ou imagine. 
Years may elapse before this right expires — and even 
then it is a question whether I shall release you.” 

“We shall see about that!” she said coldly, with de- 
termined reserve. 

“Yes, you shall see about it! I had a long and satis- 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


227 


factory conversation yesterday with Dr. Boehm, my 
father’s most intimate and confidential friend, concerning 
the circumstances of your reception in this house. I 
learned from it that you were committed to my father’s 
care upon the express condition that you should remain 
under his protection until your own father reclaimed you, 
or until some other true protector shall present himself 

who will give you his name. My father appointed 

me in his stead in case of his death, and I am firmly re- 
solved to abide by these conditions.” 

And now Felicitas entirely lost all composure. 

“God in heaven!” she cried, beside herself, clasping 
her hands. “Is my misery, then, never to end? Must I 
be forced to live forever in this horrible state of depend- 
ence? For years I have been sustained by the thought 
that my eighteenth birthday would bring me deliverance. 
This thought alone has enabled me to preserve my out- 
ward composure, while I suffered inconceivably! No, 
no, — I am no longer the patient creature who will allow 
herself to be trodden under foot out of respect for the 
wishes of the dead. I will not! — I will have nothing 
more to do with these Hellwigs. At any cost I will rid 
myself of these hateful fetters !” 

The Professor seized both her hands in his as she spoke 
these last words; his face grew deadly pale. 

“ Oh, think what you are saying, Felicitas !” he said, 
and his voice was tender, but almost stifled with emotion. 
“Do not rebel so, like a helpless bird that beats its wings 
against the bars of its cage in a useless struggle with the 
inevitable. Hateful fetters! Have you, then, no concep- 
tion of the bitter, bitter pain that your hard angry words 
cause me? You shall be free — free to think and act as 
you please, — only guarded, protected like a — fondly-loved 
child ! Felicitas, you shall learn what it is to be cherished 


*228 


THE OLD MA M ’ SELLE ' S SECRET. 


and surrounded by love. This is the last time I shall ever 
use my authority as your guardian. I pray you do not 
make me wretched by your resistance, for I declare to you 
now it will be of no avail. I shall take matters into my 
own hands, and will myself break any engagement you 
may have entered into with Madame Franz.” 

“Do so,” cried Felicitas almost hoarsely, with quiver- 
ing lips, and a face from which every drop of blood had 
departed. “But I too can act, and be sure I will defend 
myself against you as long as I live.” 

Never before in her tempest-tossed existence had she 
braved so fearful a storm as the one now raging in her 
soul. Suddenly new voices arose there, appealing loudly 
in the midst of the uproar, and they sounded like the echo 
of his earnest words of entreaty. A fearful peril over- 
shadowed her like a dark thunder-cloud, she felt instinct- 
ively that she must separate herself from him at any 
sacrifice, if she did not wish to succumb irrevocably to 
the danger that encompassed her. Already he seemed to 
possess an indefinable power over her whole being ; every 
harsh word that she spoke to him struck painfully back 
upon her own heart. 

He had until now held her hands firmly in the clasp of 
his own, and gazed, as if he would read her very soul, into 
her face which involuntarily mirrored for a moment the 
fierce conflict raging within. The keen eyes of the physi- 
cian, who had made mankind his study, had probed many 
a human breast, although he had never before tried to 
read a young girl’s heart that, however pride might seek 
to defend it, was yet unguarded from the very fact of its* 
innocence. “You will not succeed!” he said suddenly, 
with regained composure. “My eyes are watchful and 
my arm is powerful. You will not escape me, Felicitas. 

I will under no circumstances leave you here in X , 


TEE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


229 


and it is equally certain that I will not go hack to Bonn 
without you.” 

The garden-gate had creaked upon its hinges some time 
before, but the noise had been unheard. Rosa now ap- 
proached and informed the Professor that Frau Hellwig 
awaited him in the summer-house, and that the Council- 
lor’s widow begged him to come immediately. 

“Is she ill?” asked the Professor, without looking at 
the maid. 

“No,” she answered in some surprise, “but my mis- 
tress says that the coffee, which she is making herself, 
will soon be ready, — she wishes the Herr Professor to 
enjoy it while it is hot, — the young lawyer, Herr Franz, 
is also in the summer-house.” 

“Very well, I am coming,” said the Professor; but he 
made no motion to go. Perhaps he hoped that Rosa 
would return to her mistress, — if so, he was mistaken. 
The girl busied herself with little Anna, who was making 
a sorrowful lament over ‘the pretty flowers all trampled 
dead’ upon the grass. At last, evidently disappointed, 
he walked down the slope of the dam. 

“Ho not stay there any longer,” he called to Felicitas. 
“ The wind is rising every moment. I think we shall have 
a storm. Come with Anna into the summer-house.” 

He disappeared behind the cypress-hedge, but Felicitas 
walked hurriedly along the whole length of the dam. All 
was chaos in her mind, usually so clear and decided. In 
vain she strove to recover her accustomed composure, to 
analyze her sensations and regain her mastery over her- 
self. She must then continue to bow beneath the yoke, 
and not only be denied all chance of independence for an 
indefinite period of time, but she must live in unavoidable 
proximity to him, — in daily intercourse with him for 
years, — as if this were not the most fearful punishment 

20 


230 


THE OLD HAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


that she could undergo. Had she not done everything 
to prove to him how her very soul abhorred him, how 
implacable she should always be while she lived? And 
was it not, therefore, the very refinement of cruelty to 
fetter her in this way ? Why, she would rather a thou- 
sand times be subjected for years to Madame’s most cruel 
treatment, than pass one month more in the society of 
the man who was developing this demoniac power over 
her. His voice already sufficed to bewilder her thoughts, 
— the indescribably gentle and tender tone that he had 
lately adopted, thrilled every fibre of her heart and made 
it beat wildly, — that must be because of the old hate that 
stirred so at his approach. But would not this intensity 
of feeling, brought so continually into play, destroy her 
physically and morally? The fable of the fir-tree had 
constantly occupied her mind, and now its only possible 
explanation was made clear by his recent declaration: 
“Felicitas, you shall now learn what it is to be cherished 
and cared for by love.” 

He intended then, in spite of her repeated and determ- 
ined declarations that she would decide for herself in all 
questions regarding her future, to dispose according to 
his pleasure of her hand — she must marry as he should 
direct, — she would thus be provided for, and his error, 
which he now fully admitted, atoned for. At these 
thoughts she grew absolutely faint and giddy. How 
hard, how wrong, such designs were! Could he compel 
any one to love her? He himself had acknowledged 
that he cherished an unfortunate passion, that he must 
pass a lonely existence, thus yielding to his heart the 
right to influence his whole future life. He should see 
that she claimed exactly the same right — she would not 
be treated like merchandise. 

What prevented her from instantly going to Mauame 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


231 


Franz and claiming her protection? — Ah, there was the 
little gray box — it bound her more firmly to this wretched 
house than any human will could have done — for its sake 
she would endure until the last moment. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

Little Anna interrupted the young girl’s anxious and 
troubled meditations. The child took her hand coaxingly 
and tried to lead her away from the dam. The wind was 
already blowing with great force through the tops of the 
trees, — keen blasts penetrated even the more sheltered 
portions of the garden, — the terrified little flowers in the 
grass bent before their persecutor. Flying clouds now 
and then obscured the setting sun, throwing shadows as 
of huge birds of prey across the paths and lawn, — rose- 
leaves whirled about in the air, and even the stiff cypress 
hedges bent like so many stately solemn court-dames. 

It was more comfortable within doors. Felicitas brought 
a garden-chair into the hall of the summer-house, seated 
herself, and took out her sewing. The doors of the little 
kitchen and the cosy summer-room were wide open. It 
was not easy to imagine anything more charming than 
the Councillor’s widow when she undertook the role of a 
notable hostess. She had on a richly trimmed coquettish 
black silk apron, a dark crimson rose peeped out from 
among her fair curls just above her left ear, — she had 
evidently plucked it from its stem as she passed the pa- 
rent-bush and placed it where it now was, unconsciously, 
while lost in thought, — the effect was charming. Her 


232 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


skirt was festooned above her petticoat that it might not 
impede her hospitable labours, and the little feet beneath 
it in their well-fitting boots moved with childlike grace, 
according well with the expression of the rosy face, which 
was that of a happy harmless child zealously performing 
some important duty entrusted to it — w T ho would have 
suspected the widow and mother in this impersonation 
of innocent naivete ? 

While she was busily preparing the coffee in the kitchen, 
a lively conversation was going on in the next room be- 
tween Frau Hellwig and the young lawyer — the subject 
was the old Mam’selle’s will. Heinrich and Frederika 
had already declared to Felicitas that Madame no longer 
spoke or thought of anything that had not something to 
do with this unlucky story of the will. She saw Ma- 
dame’s face for one moment through the open door — she 
thought it perceptibly altered, and there was an unwonted 
degree of haste in her manner of speaking. Chagrin and 
anger had evidently retained the upper hand in this wo- 
man’s mind. 

The Professor took no share in the conversation, — it 
even seemed as though he heard nothing of what was 
going on. Lost in thought, with his hands behind him, 
he paced steadily to and fro in the room, only raising his 
eyes as he passed the open door, to regard the girl sew- 
ing in the little hall without. 

“I shall never be reconciled to it as long as I live, my 
dear Franz,” repeated Frau Hellwig. “It would be dif- 
ferent if every farthing had not been hardly earned by the 
Hellwigs. And then to have some worthless person 
appear who will squander in a few months the careful 
savings, which would have been such a source of bless- 
ing in our hands.” 

“Oh, aunt,” said the young widow, who had just then 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 


235 


entered the room with her coffee-pot and was filling the 
cups, — “I am afraid you are exciting yourself again about 
that miserable will — indeed it is not good for you, you 
will be ill. Think of your children — think of me, dear 
aunt, and try to forget it!” 

“Forget it!” cried Frau Hellwig. “Never! How 
can any one forget who possesses a particle of character, 
which indeed our young people now-a-days are strangely 
wanting in,” — here she cast a withering glance at her 
son, who was still pacing the apartment. “I feel too 
deeply the disgrace of submitting to such gross injustice 
— I cannot away with it. How can you ask such a thing, 
or require such tame forgetfulness of me ! You are some- 
times dreadfully superficial, Adele!” 

The face of the Councillor’s widow flushed, a hard, ob- 
stinate line appeared around her mouth, and the cup 
which she was handing to Madame trembled in her hand, 
but she possessed sufficient self-control to suppress the 
sharp reply that rose to her lips. 

“Indeed I do not deserve your reproach,” she said very 
gently, after a few moments of ^silence. “No one can 
take this miserable affair more to heart than I. It is not 
only that I lament the pecuniary loss, dear aunt, which 
you and my two cousins must sustain, — my woman’s 
nature recoils from the idea of such moral turpitude. 
Here has this cunning old woman spent half her* life 
under your roof devising all the wdiile means of injuring 
most deeply her nearest relatives. She has left the world 
unreconciled to God or man, and with a catalogue of sins 
upon her soul which must eternally shut her out from 
the joys of heaven — how terrible! Dear John, shall I 
pour you out a cup of coffee?” 

“No, I thank you,” replied the Professor, and went od 
pacing the room as before. 

20 * 


234 


THE OLD MA M ’ SELLE ’ S SECRET. 


The work fell from Felicitas’ hands. She listened 
breathless to every word uttered by that traducing 
tongue. True, Heinrich had told her that the world had 
judged the old Mam’selle most hastily and unjustly, — 
but this was the first time that any condemnation of her 
had reached her ears. Her temples throbbed — every 
word went to her heart like the stab of a knife, — the pain 
which she now endured for the dead was greater than 
the pang of separation. 

“I do not know whether the old lady was really guilty 
or not,” said the young lawyer. “From all that I hear, 
nothing has ever been clearly proved against her. The 
scandalous chronicle of our good town has been content 
with spreading only vague surmises. Her will, however, 
proves that she must undoubtedly have been a most ori- 
ginal person, of extraordinary power of mind.” 

Madame laughed contemptuously, and scornfully turned 
her back upon the bold defender of the dead. 

“My most excellent friend, it is the duty of your pro- 
fession to whitewash the darkest crimes, and to discover 
angelic innocence where the whole world has justly con- 
demned, — when I consider this, I can understand what 
you have just said,” declared the Councillor’s widow with 
evident malice. “But there is an opinion which I value 
in this case — I pray you to forgive me — very much more 
highly than yours: papa used to know her. She was a 
person of such stubborn obstinacy that she literally wor- 
ried her father to death. She certainly showed by her 
visit to Leipzig how little regard she entertained for her 
own reputation, — and her ‘extraordinary power of mind,’ 
as you call it, led her into most devious and crooked 
paths, — she was a free-thinker — an atheist.” 

At this moment Felicitas rose hastily and appeared upon 
the threshold of the door, — she stood there for one moment 


THE OLD MAM’SELLE'S SECRET. 


235 


with her right hand commandingly extended, her pale 
cheeks suffused with a burning glow — beautiful in her 
wrath as an avenging angel. The rosy lips which had 
just made such frightful accusations with such easy, self- 
satisfied confidence, were struck dumb at this apparition. 

“She never was an atheist !” said Felicitas sternly, and 
her flaming glance rested full upon the countenance of 
the slanderer. “ But she was indeed a free-thinker. She 
pondered earnestly, without one fear for the salvation of 
her soul or one thought wasted upon mere dogmas, upon 
the works of God, — for she knew that every path through 
them leads to Him. The conflict between the Bible and 
Natural Science never troubled her or led her astray. Her 
faith was rooted not in the letter, but in God’s fair creation 
— in her own consciousness, in the heavenly gift of 
reason, and in the self-reliant thought and action of the 
immortal soul. She did not, it is true, go with the multi- 
tude to worship God in a church, — but when the bells 
rang, she stood in humble adoration before the Highest, 
— and I cannot think that her prayers were less accept- 
able to Him than the worship of those who honour him 
with their lips while their hearts are full of evil thoughts 
of their fellow-men!” 

Involuntarily young Franz arose, — he leaned his hand 
upon the back of his chair, and regarded the courageous 
girl with incredulous wonder. 

“You knew this mysterious lady?” he asked breath- 
lessly, as Felicitas ceased. 

“I enjoyed the privilege of daily intercourse with her.” 

“This is a most delightful piece of news!” said the 
Councillor’s widow. The observation was meant to be 
ironical, but the voice was uncertain, and the colour for- 
sook the beautiful face for an instant. “You can then, 
without doubt, relate many a charming and piquant anec- 


236 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


dote from the early experience of your revered friend ?” 
she asked in a tone which she studied to make indifferent, 
as she carelessly played with her coffee-spoon. 

“ She never alluded to her past life,” replied Felicitas. 
She knew that she had evoked a terrible storm — she must 
now await it coolly with perfect self-possession. 

“What a pity!” lamented the young widow ironically, 
shaking her curls, — the roses had already returned to her 
cheeks. “ But how I admire your rare histrionic talent, 
Caroline ! How wonderfully you have contrived to carry 
on this secret intercourse! Dear John, do you still con- 
tinue to repent your previous false conception of this 
character ?” 

The Professor had stood perfectly still from the moment 
when the young girl appeared upon the threshold. Her 
justification of Aunt Cordula had found ready utterance 
in clear scourging words. Her keen decided intellect 
never lacked power of expression. The last biting ques- 
tion of the Councillor’s widow remained unanswered. 
The Professor looked steadily at her, and an almost im- 
perceptible smile hovered upon his lips, as, in spite of all 
her self-control, he saw her wince under that sting. 

“Was that your well-guarded secret?” he now asked 
her. 

“Yes,” answered the girl — and her earnest eyes gleamed, 
for, strangely enough, at the sound of that voice, the con- 
viction suddenly took possession of her that she was not 
alone in the coming unavoidable struggle. 

“You were going to live with Aunt Cordula, and that 
was the happiness to which you were looking forward?” 
he asked further. 

“Yes.” 

If the Councillor’s widow had not been so much ab- 
sorbed in the contemplation of the ‘ unmasked hypocrite 1 


TIIE OLD MAM’SELLE'S SECRET 


237 


standing there upon the threshold, she would certainl} 
have been shocked by the joy that now sparkled in the 
Professor’s eyes -and transfigured his grave face most 
strangely. 

Question and answer had hitherto succeeded each other 
with such lightning rapidity, that Frau Hellwig had had 
no time to recover from her astonishment. She leaned 
back in her chair as though stiffened into stone, and the 
stocking that she was knitting fell from her hands, and 
the white ball of yarn rolled into the middle of the 
room. 

“This is an extremely interesting and. important dis- 
covery for me!” cried the young lawyer as he hastily ap- 
proached Pelicitas. “ Do not be afraid that I shall attempt 
to pry into the private affairs of the deceased lady, — far 
be it from me to dream of such a thing. But perhaps 
you may be able to give me satisfaction in regard to cer- 
tain unaccountable allusions and directions in her will 
that ” 

Oh, Heavens! she was then to be examined concern- 
ing the missing silver! A shudder ran through her 
whole frame — her face grew whiter than snow, — in great 
confusion she cast down her eyes — she was the very 
image of convicted guilt. 

“As a passionate lover of music and a devoted collec- 
tor of autographs, I have been in a state of delighted ex- 
pectation since the reading of the will,” continued the 
lawyer, after a momentary pause occasioned by his sur- 
prise at the girl’s sudden change of countenance. “The 
will alludes expressly to a manuscript collection of the 
works of famous composers. We have searched for such 
a collection in vain. It is maintained by many that the 
deceased suffered from aberration of mind, and that this 
part of her possessions was a chimera, a phantom of her 


238 


THE OLD MAM SELLERS SECRET. 


brain. Have yon ever seen such a collection in the old 
lady’s possession?” 

“ Yes,” said Felicitas, drawing a breath of relief, but 
outraged by the suspicion hinted at by the young lawyer, 
“I knew every sheet of it!” 

“Was it large and valuable?” 

“ It comprised works by all the famous musicians of 
the past century.” 

“ There is also mention made several times in the will 
— but here I believe there is really an error existing — of 
an opera by Bach. Can you remember the title of any 
such work ?” the lawyer further inquired, with an air of 
intense interest. 

“Oh yes,” replied the young girl quickly. “There 
has been no error committed here either. It was an 
operetta. Johann Sebastian Bach composed it for the 

town of X , and it was brought out in the old town- 

hall. It was entitled ‘The Wisdom of the Magistracy 
in the Establishment of Breweries.’” 

“Impossible!” cried the young man, actually starting 
back in the excess of his astonishment. “ This compo- 
sition, then, which has been a kind of myth for the mu- 
sical world, did really exist!” 

“It was a partitur written by Bach’s own hand,” Fe- 
licitas continued. “It was presented to a certain Gotthelf 
von Hirschsprung, and was afterwards left as a legacy 
to the deceased ” 

“These are priceless revelations! And now I conjure 
you to tell me where this collection is to be found.” 

A gulf suddenly yawned at her feet. In her great in- 
dignation at the thought that any one could doubt the 
soundness and power of Aunt Cordula’s mind, she had 
told all that she could to refute so horrible a slander. In 
her zeal to defend her dear old friend, she had not re- 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


239 


fleeted whither her revelations were of necessity 1< ading 
her. Now she must answer this question directly. 
Should she tell what was untrue? No, that was impos- 
sible ! 

“As far as I know, it no longer exists,” she said in a 
much lower voice than before. 

“It no longer exists! You mean doubtless that it ex- 
ists no longer as a collection.” 

Felicitas was silent — she wished herself miles away 
from her importunate interrogator. 

“ Or can it be possible,” he continued in a tone of 
alarm, “that it is really destroyed? Should this be the 
case, you must tell me how such an accident occurred.” 

Here was a dilemma indeed l There sat the woman 
whom her statement must compromise. How often in 
passionate moments had an evil desire for revenge upon 
her heartless tormentor possessed her ! She had thought 
then that it would be sweet to see this odious woman 
suffer. And now the moment had come when this desire 
could be gratified, — she could humiliate the great lady — 
convict her of an act not to be justified. How little had 
she understood the nobility of her own nature ! She was 
entirely incapable of revenge. She cast a stolen glance 
at her foe, and was met by a look positively ferocious. It 
was powerless to affect her. 

“I was not present when the collection was destroyed, 
and can therefore give you no account of its destruction,” 
she said, so firmly, so conclusively, as to render all further 
interrogatories obviously useless. But her forbearance 
cost her dear, for now the storm which had been darkly 
muttering above her head broke ^ose. Frau Hellwig 
arose, leaned both hands upon the table before her, and 
a gleam of truly demoniac rage illumined her colourless 
countenance. 


240 


TEE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


“Wretched creature, do you *hink to spare me?” she 
cried in a voice trembling with passion. “Do you pre- 
sume to suspect that I desire to conceal anything I have 
done from the world, and that you can assist me in such 
concealment — you!” She turned away contemptuously, 
and addressed the young lawyer with all her previous 
coolness and self-confidence. “It is true, I am used to 
render an account of my actions to my God alone,” she 
said. “Whatever I do is done in his name, in his honour, 
and for the glorification of his holy church. Nevertheless, 
X will tell you, my dear Franz, what has become of your 
•priceless collection,’ chiefly with the view of convincing 
this person of her madness in supposing that I could pos- 
sibly act in concert with her. The deceased Cordula 
Hellwig was an infidel, a lost soul, — and whoever under- 
takes her justification will share her condemnation. In- 
stead of praying for her vanished peace of mind, she 
silenced the voice of conscience with the poison of pro- 
fane music full of incitement to worldly pleasure. Even 
on the Sabbath she desecrated my quiet house with her 
sinful practices. She would sit for days before those 
profane books, and the more she was absorbed in them, 
the more obstinately did she reject and resist my efforts 
for the salvation of her soul. Since then I have had no 
more earnest desire than to blot out of existence, to de- 
stroy from the face of the earth, these miserable human 
devices in which the Lord has no part, and which are 
such a stumbling-block in the way of salvation. I burned 
the papers, my dear Franz !” 

She said these last words with a raised voice and an 
expression of the greatest exultation. 

“Mother!” cried the Professor, hastily approaching 
her. 

“Well, my son?” she asked, motioni ig him back. She 


THE OLD MAM* SELLS'S SECRET. 


241 


raised herself to her full height, and stood there as if 
clothed in brazen armour. “ You will probably reproach 
me with having deprived Nathanael and yourself of this 
valuable inheritance,” she continued. “ Rest content— 
I am resolved to replace the few paltry dollars from my 
own purse. You shall be no losers by my act. 

“The few paltry dollars!” repeated the lawyer he 
actually trembled with surprise and indignation. “Ma- 
dame Hell wig, you will have, the pleasure of refunding 
to your sons five thousand thalers 1” 

“Five thousand thalers?” Frau Hellwig laughed 
aloud. “That would be a rare jest! Those miserable 
yellow sheets! Don’t make yourself ridiculous, my dear 


Franz !” 

“Those miserable yellow sheets will cost you dear 
enough you will find,” retorted the young man, trying 
to control himself. “I will show you to-morrow a notice 
written by the deceased lady herself, in which she esti- 
mates the value of the collection at five thousand thalers, 
at the lowest— and this not including the Bach manu- 
script. As for that,— pray understand what I say, Ma- 
dame Hellwig,— you can have no idea to what lega 
penalties you have made yourself liable by the destruc- 
tion of that priceless treasure. The Hirschsprung heirs 
must settle that in the future 1 Incredible 1” he exclaimed, 
in utter dismay. “At this moment, John, all that I said 
to you in the garden a few weeks ago occurs to me,— 
you could not have a more striking illustration of my 
remarks. ^ ^ 

The Professor did not answer. He had stepped to a 
window, and his face was turned towards the garden. 
No one could judge of the effect of his agitated friends 

appeal to him. „ . A 

For a moment it seemed as if Frau Hellwig under- 
Q 21 


242 


THE OLD MA M' SELL E ’ S SECRET 


stood that she had wilfully subjected herself to an ( ndless 
succession of most annoying and even distressing conse- 
quences, — her attitude suddenly lost its air of conscious 
infallibility and unassailable self-confidence, and the con- 
temptuous smile which she struggled to maintain almost 
faded from her lips. But it could not be, — no unforeseen 
combination of circumstances could ever produce in Ma- 
dame ’s mind any remorse for anything she bad done. 
She did everything in the fear and to the glory of the 
Lord, — any fault or error was impossible. She recovered 
herself instantly. 

“1 must remind you, Herr Franz, of what you men- 
tioned yourself a little while ago,” she said coldly and 
formally. “ The deceased is justly accused of mental 
aberration, — it would not be at all difficult to adduce suf- 
ficient proof to substantiate the charge. Who will then 
maintain that that ridiculous valuation was not written 
in the wanderings of insanity?” 

“I will 1” cried Felicitas, with decision, although her 
voice shook with the violence of her conflicting emotions. 
“I will defend the dead from those attacks as long as I 
live, Madame Helhvig. There never existed a clearer, 
healthier intellect than hers. My declaration can, of 
course, possess no legal weight; but should you succeed 
in refuting all other evidence of her unclouded mind, the 
portfolios in wfliich the collection w r as placed still exist — 
those I rescued ! Each one contains on the inside of the 
cover a complete index of its former contents, with a 
faithful account of how and at w r hat cost each autograph 
was obtained.” 

“Aha! 1 have then nourished in my own house a wit- 
ness against me !” sneered Madame. “ But it is your turn 
to be called to account. How dared you deceive me 
through all these years with such unexampled insolence? 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET 


243 


Ton have eaten my bread while you scoffed at me behind 
my back. If it had not been for me, you would nave bad 
to beg your bread from door to door ! Out of my sight, 
treacherous hypocrite!” 

Felicitas did not stir from the threshold. Her slender 
form seemed to dilate beneath the reproaches heaped 
upon her; her face was deadly white, but the fearless 
pride, the unbending spirit of the girl had never been as 
manifest as it was at this moment. 

“Your reproach that I have deceived you I deserve , 11 
she said with most admirable composure. “I have been 
uniformly silent, and would have endured death, sooner 
than have allowed a hint of my other life to pass my lips, 
— that is true. Nevertheless, my resolution could have 
been easily shaken — one kind, cordial word from your 
lips — one gentle glance from your eyes would have suf- 
ficed to overthrow it, for nothing is more odious to me 
than concealment of any kind. But there was no sin in 
my deceit. Who would call the early Christians de- 
ceivers because they assembled in times of persecution in 
direct opposition to the law ? And I too had my soul to 
save !” She took breath and riveted her clear brown eyes 
with an expression of the greatest decision upon Ma- 
dame’s face. “I should have been plunged into blackest 
night, had I not found an asylum and protection in the 
rooms under the roof. In the wrathful and avenging 
God, to whom you pray, who tolerates the existence of a 
hell, and leads his children into temptation that He may 
try, prove, and then punish them, — in this implacable 
Supreme Being, I never could believe, Madame Hellwig. 
My dear old friend revealed to me a Heavenly Father 
who is all Love and Pity, Wisdom and Omnipotence, and 
who alone rules in heaven and on earth. The desire of 
study the appetite for knowledge was unquenchable in 


244 


THE OLD MA M' SELL E ’ S SECRET 


my childish soul, — if you had starved my body, Madame, 
it would not have been as cruel as were your systematic 
efforts to fetter my thoughts, to kill my mind. I have 
never scoffed at you, for when I was with her your name 
was never mentioned, but I have baffled all your plans 
with regard to me. The old Mam’selle has been my 
teacher 1” 

“ Begone 1” cried Frau Hellwig, no longer mistress of 
herself, pointing towards the door. 

“Not yet, dear aunt!” begged the young widow, seiz- 
ing the outstretched arm of the great lady. “You will 
not let such a precious moment slip without taking ad- 
vantage of it, I hope. Ilerr Franz, you have performed 
your duty as a * passionate lover of music,’ most admira- 
bly, — let me entreat- you to inform yourself with the 
same zeal concerning the missing bracelet and silver 
plate, — if any one can throw any light upon their where- 
abouts, it is this person!” 

The young lawyer approached Felicitas, whose left 
hand involuntarily sought the support of the frame of the 
door, and, offering her his arm with a profound bow, he 
said, with kindly courtesy: “Will you permit me to con- 
duct you to my mother?” 

“Her place is here!” said the Professor suddenly, in a 
clear ringing voice. He had been hitherto entirely silent. 
Now he stood erect by the side of Felicitas, and grasped 
her right hand firmly in his own. 

Young Franz recoiled involuntarily ; for one instant 
the two men measured each other silently, — there was 
none of the warmth of friendship in their eyes. 

“Ah, bravo! two knights at once — what a charming 
picture!” cried the Councillor’s widow, laughing loudly. 
A cup dropped from her hand, and lay in a hundred 
pieces upon the floor. — a carelessness which would have 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


245 


provoked a stern rebuke from her aunt at any other 
time, — but now Madame was speechless with anger and. 
amazement. 

“ It seems to-day that I am repeatedly tempted to ap- 
peal to the past,” said Franz, in a bitter tone, interrupting 
the momentary silence. “Perhaps you may remember, 
John, that not long ago, in virtue of your guardianship, 
you fully empowered me to take my present step ” 

“I neither forget nor refuse to acknowledge one iota of 
what I said. Should you desire a conclusive explanation 
of my inconsistency, I am always entirely at your service 
— but not here.” 

He drew Felicitas from the threshold, and went with 
her into the garden. 

“Go back into the town, Felicitas,” he said — and the 
gray eyes that used to glitter so coldly, rested upon her 
face with the utmost tenderness. “It shall be your last 
struggle, poor little Fay 1 This is the last night that you 
shall pass beneath my mother’s roof, — to-morrow, you 
shall begin a new life!” Unconsciously he pressed the 
hand, which he still held in his, close to his heart, — then 
dropped it and went back into the house. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

Felicitas left the garden with winged speed. The 
Professor was mistaken, — so far from spending the night, 
she would not even spend the evening beneath Madame’s 
roof. The moment had arrived, when she could go to 
Aunt Cordula’s rooms. In the narrow street she met 
21 * 


246 


TEE OLD MAM’SELLE'S SECRET. 


(he old cook carrying the supper out to the garden. No 
one then hut Heinrich was left in the house. IIow the 
gust roared and howled through the thick boughs of the 
old lindens ! The wind drove the girl on, — but there was 
level, firm ground beneath her feet. What a walk was 
before her, over crumbling tiles in the rushing blast ! 

Heinrich opened the street door. Felicitas glided 
breathlessly past him, went into the servants’ room, and 
took the key of the garret from the wall. 

“What are you going to do now, Fay?” asked the old 
man, with surprise. 

“I will bring back with me unstained honour for you, 
and freedom for myself, Heinrich,” she cried, in her ex- 
citement. “Keep steady watch here below,” and she ran 
up the stairs. 

“Do nothing rash. Fay child, Fay!” he called after 
her, “don’t run into any danger,” — but she did not hear 
him. He had to remain upon his post below stairs, and 
walked impatiently up and down the hall. 

As Felicitas reached the long corridor, upon which the 
garrets opened, the wind moaned above her in long sigh- 
ing gusts, which ended in low whistling tones. The 
woodwork creaked, and the sultry breath of the storm 
blew in sudden blasts through the hollow water-pipes 
along the edge of the roof. Just now, a mottled gray 
and white hail-cloud hung above the four roofs, — a lurid 
light quivered over the hanging flower-garden, glistened 
like a deceitful eye upon the glass panes of the door, 
above which wreaths of ivy, loosened from the wall by 
the wind, hung helplessly, and illuminated strongly the 
tossing leaves of the wild vines. 

As she put her head out of the garret window a violent 
gust blew directly in her face — it took away her breath 
and forced her to draw back. She let it rage by, and 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET. 


247 


then leaped out. Any one who could have seen that 
beautiful pale face, with its tightiv-compressed lips ana 
its air of stern determination, emerge from the dark gai 
ret window, would have admitted that the girl was fully 
aware of the terrible danger she was braving, and that 
she was prepared to encounter death, if need be, in pur- 
suit of her object. What a strange mixture this young 
creature was ! A head so cool and clear above a heart 
throbbing so wildly and capable of such strong passion. 

With an airy tread she ran along the creaking gutters, 
and no giddiness dimmed her clear eyes for an instant, — 
but her roaring foe gave her scarcely time to breathe — 
with a shrill whistle he was down upon her again with 
terrific force. The glass door of the gallery flew open, 
and some large flower-pots fell from the railing to the 
floor, and the crumbling tiles trembled and creaked be- 
neath Felicitas’ feet. She was still upon the next roof, 
but with her hands she clasped the railing of the gallery 
which she had just reached. 

The gust loosened her hair and tossed about the thick 
masses as if to scatter them abroad, but she herself stood 
firm. After a moment of patient waiting to recover her 
breath, she swung herself over the railing into the gallery 
and instantly entered the music-room. Behind her the 
storm moaned and roared, but she no longer heard it — 
she never thought of the death that threatened her return ; 
with clasped hands hanging idly before her, she stood in 
the cool ivy-wreathed apartment — it was her last glimpse 
of it. The calm snow-white faces upon the walls looked 
like ol_d friends, and yet so strangely unfamiliar, — they 
had once informed this room with life, for their living 
thoughts had been conjured up to float around their pale 
brows — but now they were mere ornaments, decorations 
of the wall, — they looked impartially upon the youthful 


248 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


figure of the coquettish young widow and the pale girlish 
face now lifted to them, streaming with tears. 

For the rest, the room looked just as cosey and comfort- 
able as during Aunt Cordula’s lifetime. There was not 
a speck of dust upon the large piano — countless tender 
sprays of ivy were shooting forth everywhere from the 
green walls in token that they were kindly cared for, and 
in a recess by one of the windows stood a young caout- 
chouc tree and a slender little palm which the old Mam’- 
selle had specially delighted in, and which had evidently 
been carefully tended. But the other window looked 
oddly, — the delicate little work-table stood there no longer 
— the Professor had adopted this corner as his study. 

A burning blush rose to Felicitas’ cheek. Here she 
was standing like a thief in his room. Who could tell 
what letters and papers might be lying therd, which no 
strange eye should see, — he had left them exposed with- 
out fear, for he carried the key of the room in his pocket, 
— she flew across to the old cabinet. On one side of the 
old piece of furniture, in the middle of a richly-carved 
arabesque ornament, there was a little metal knob, which 
could hardly have been perceived by an unitiated eye. 
Felicitas pressed it firmly and the door of the secret re* 
posit ory flew open. There lay +he missing treasures in 
all their former order. The antique silver coffee-pot and 
cream-jug — the heavy bundles of spoons tied up with silk 
ribbon — the old-fashioned case containing the set of dia- 
monds, — all these things occupied the same places in 
which they had lain in dim concealment for so many 
years, — there in the corner was the casket with the 
bracelet, and beside it — yes, beside it — was the gray box, 
pushed a little on one side, just as the old Mam’selle had 
hurriedjy thrust it there a few weeks before, — evidently 
she had not touched it again. 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


249 


Felicitas lifted it with trembling fingers, — it was not 
light, — its contents must be destroyed, — but how ? What 
was it made of? 

She carefully lifted the cover — a thick book, bound 
rather coarsely in leather, met her eyes, — the stiff leaves 
were gaping open, and the corners of the covers were 
bent and worn with age. One shy glance within told 
the girl that the pages of this book were covered not with 
printed but with written characters. 

Two eyes, Aunt Cordula, are resting upon your secret 
— two eyes in which you have countless times read faith- 
ful childlike love and devotion, and a youthful heart, which 
has never for one instant swerved from its faith in you, 
is throbbing to solve the riddle of your life. It is as 
firmly convinced of your innocence as of the existence of 
the shining sun, but it would know why you suffered so 
— it would comprehend the magnitude of your life-long 
sacrifice. Your secret shall die — these leaves shall crum- 
ble to ashes, and the lips which even in earliest childhood 
so well understood how to hold their peace, will forever 
be as silent as your own. 

The girl’s trembling fingers opened the book. * Oscar 
von Hirschsprung , Studiosus Philosophise ,’ was written 
in bold characters upon the first leaf. It was the journal 
of the young student, the nobly descended son of the 
shoemaker, for whose sake, as report averred, Aunt Cor- 
dula had literally worried her father to death. The 
writer had only used one side of each leaf, leaving the 
other for future annotations. But these others were 
covered closely with the delicate handwriting of the old 
Mam’selle. 

Felicitas read the beginning. Profound original thought, 
with a rare power and felicity of expression, riveted the at- 
tention and forced reflection. He must have been a remark- 


250 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


able man — the shoemaker’s young son — with a brain full 
of gorgeous fancies and the soundest judgment, and a 
glowing heart full of the tenderest affection! And there- 
fore Cordula, the stern merchant’s daughter, had loved 
him to the death. Thus she wrote : 

“Your eyes are closed forever, Oscar, and you did not 
see how I knelt beside your couch and wrung my hands 
in passionate entreaty that God would spare you to me. 
In the delirium of fever you called my name repeatedly 
in tones of ardent love, — but then too there were times 
when your cry for me seemed to come from the depths of 
a wounded heart and to breathe revenge, — when I spoke 
to you, you looked at me with strange eyes in which was 
no recognition, and pushed my hand away. 

“You have gone, in the belief that I have broken my 
vow to you, — and when all was over, and they had re- 
moved you from your couch, I found this book under 
your pillow. It tells me how I have been loved, but it 
tells me also that I have been doubted, Oscar I I longed 
and watched in your death-agony for only one conscious 
look — one would have convinced you that I was true to 
you, and my sad fate would have been robbed of its keen- 
est sting. In vain! There is no greater torture for the 
soul than to part forever from one who is dearest to it 
unreconciled. If I had committed the blackest crime, 
my punishment could not be greater than to carry about 
with me this heart, which will not rest, but cries out and 
urges me on like the outcast Cain. 

“Your stronger spirit is released, and is exploring new 
realms, but I must wander here upon this little earth with- 
out even knowing whether you can look back to me, I 

can speak to none of my inward struggles, and I do not 
wish it — for who could understand my loss? No one ex- 
cept myself knew you. But once only, I must tell how it 


THE OLD MAM' SELLE'S SECRET. 


251 


all happened. You have written down your thoughts in 
this book; bold and striking as they are — there comes 
from them a refreshing breath of tender and undying love 
for me, Oscar. Your words speak to me as from your 
living lips, and in your sympathetic voice. I will answer 
you here, upon the same pages where your hand has 
rested. 4nd I will fancy that you stand beside me — 
that your deep dark eyes are following my pen as stroke 
by stroke the riddle is made plain before you! 

“Do vou remember the day when little Cordula Hell- 
wig was searching for her favourite white chicken which 
the house-dog had chased into the house? She found it 
in one of the deserted rooms in an upper story, where 
onl v a board partition divided the merchant’s mansion 
from the humble dwelling where lived the shoemaker 
Hirschsprung. The room was dark and gloomy, but 
through a crack between the boards the golden light was 
streaming, and thousands of motes were playing in the 
pillar of sunshine. The little girl peeped through the 
crack. In there, neighbour Hirschsprung had just housed 
the golden grain from his small field, and high upon the 
yellow sheaves sat his wild boy Oscar, with his black 
eyes and raven curls. 

‘“You can’t find me!’ cried the child through the crack. 
The boy sprang down and looked searchingly and boldly 
around him. ‘You can’t find me,’ repeated the girl. 
Then came a crash, and one of the boards behind which 
little Cordula was peeping fell in upon the floor of the 
room where she was. Yes, Oscar, it was your work! 
and I know how you would have levelled other barriers, 
and destroyed many a false worldly structure which had 
been carefully erected, if you had lived, just as you threw 
down tne old planks behind which the little girl was 
teasiug you. 


252 


THE OLD MA M ’ SELLE ' S SECRET. 


“ I cried bitterly with fright, and in a moment you were 
all gentleness and tenderness, and through the gap you 
led me down stairs into the smoky little room where your 
father was at work. The board was replaced, but from 
that time I ran across to see you every day. Ah, what 
winter afternoons those were! Without, the wintry wind 
roared, and the snow beat against the little round leaded 
panes of the window, w T here the geranium on the sill quiv- 
ered with the violence of the storm outside, and the gold- 
finch that was usually so merry, retreated to the farthest 
corner of his cage. But within, the coffee was heating 
on the gigantic stove, — your good mother was spinning 
at her wheel, while your father upon his bench worked 
for his daily bread. 

“I can still see his grave melancholy face as he told 
us of by-gone days. Then the Hirschsprungs had been 
a powerful family — a famous race, gigantic in form, and 
mighty in prowess. What a multitude of heroic deeds 
had been done by their strong arms ! But I shuddered at 
the tales of the rivers of knightly blood which they had 
spilt. I liked much better the story of the knight who 
loved his young wife so faithfully and tenderly. He had 
two bracelets made, and upon each was engraved half of 
an old love song; he *wore one, and his dear wife the 
other. And when he fell mortally wounded in battle, a 
savage foe tried to tear from him the costly love-token, 
but the dying man clutched the jewel convulsively with 
his left hand, which was almost hacked in pieces before 
his squire could come to his aid. The bracelets were 
kept in the family as relics until — yes, until the Swedes 
came. Ah, how you hated those Swedes, Oscar! They 
were the cause of the downfall of the Hirschsprungs. It 
was a sad, sad story, and I could not bear to hear your 
father tell it, for he always concluded with ‘ Ah, Oscar. 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


253 


if that had not happened, you could have gone to the 
University, and have become a great man, — but now 
there is nothing for you but the shoemaker’s bench.’ Ah, 
the story had another side, which he knew nothing ofl 
“The Hirschsprungs were all good Catholics, — they 
clung to the old faith when the whole country was con- 
verted to the Lutheran doctrines. On account of their 
religion they lived in strict retirement; but this did not 
satisfy old Adrian von Hirschsprung, who was a zealous 
Papist, and would rather give up his knightly mansion 
and his Thuringian home than dwell among heretics. 
He sold his possessions, with the exception of the man- 
sion on the Square, for sixty thousand thalers in gold 
coin, and his two sons rode off one day to purchase a 
home for him in some Catholic country. Then it hap- 
pened that the Swedish king, Gustavus Adolphus, with 
twenty thousand warriors, came marching through 
Thuringia. He halted for one day at the little town of 

X , on the twenty-second of October, 1632, and his 

troops were quartered upon the townsfolk. The old 
knight’s house upon the Square was also crowded with 
Swedish soldiers, who filled old Adrian with rage and 
abhorrence. A terrible quarrel arose between the knight 
and the half-drunken men, sitting at their wine in the 
eourt-vard, and then the dreadful deed was committed ; 
a common soldier stabbed the stern old Papist to the heart. 
He fell back with extended arms upon the stones of the 
court-yard, and died upon the spot without a word. But 
the furious Swedes destroyed and burned everything in 
the house that they could lay their hands upon, and when 
the sons came home to tell the results of their expedition, 
old Adrian was lying beneath the aisle of the church of 
the Holy Virgin, and they sought in vain for their in- 
heritance. The Swedes had carried off the sixty thou- 

22 


254 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET:. 


sand thalers, chests and caskets were empty, and their 
contents lay torn and trampled under foot; the family 
papers were scattered to the four winds — not a sheet of 
them was left. This was your father’s story, Oscar. 
And thus the old house was sold for an insignificant sum 
to the merchant Hellwig. The two sons of Adrian shared 
the proceeds of the sale. Lutz, the elder, left the town, 
and nothing was ever heard of him again; but the other, 
who remained here, hung his knightly sword upon the 
wall, and the descendants of those who had fought the 
Saracen, and whose bravery and high-born courtesy had 
graced imperial halls, took to spade and hoe. 

“You did not follow their example, Oscar. As the 
thick locks above your forehead curled and waved, defy- 
ing all but nature’s own arrangement, so your spirit left 
the narrow paths which your father and his father’s 
father had pursued, and followed its own course in life, 
although you knew that that course must be thorny and 
stony, that privation and want must be your close com- 
panions. You only saw the goal, the lofty brilliant 
goal — and your heroic courage led you to a garret to die. 
The spirit fled because the body starved 1 Almighty 
God! to think that one of thy noblest creatures died 
from want! 

“Who that had ever listened to your noble thoughts 
and glorious dreams for the future could have pictured 
such an end to your high hopes! And when you sat at 
the piano with such wondrous melodies breathing from 
your fingers! A wretched little spinnet stood in one 
corner of your father’s room, its tones were dull and 
harsh, but your genius inspired it — it could utter the 
wild tones of the tempest or bring visions of a smiling 
heaven above a sunny world. Do you not remember 
how your good father rewarded you when he was please, d 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


255 


with you? With what a solemn air he would open a 
little antique secretary and place a manuscript music- 
book upon the desk of the old spinnetl It was Johann 
Sebastian Bach’s operetta — his grandfather had received 
it as a gift from the great composer, and it had been 
guarded like some saintly relic by the family. When 
you left the world you left in your room not a penny of 
money, not a crust of bread, but this manuscript of 
Bach’s — whose material value you well knew — was 
found upon your table directed to me. 

“ On the other page just opposite to where I am now 
writing stands written ‘My sweet Cordula, with her 
golden curls, came in to-day in a,, white dress,’ — that was 
the day of my confirmation, Oscar. My stern mother 
told me it must be my last visit, for that I was now grown 
up and there must be no intercourse between the wealthy 
merchant’s daughter and the shoemaker’s family. Your 
parents were not in the room and I told you of my mo- 
ther’s prohibition. How pale your face grew beneath 
your coal-black curls! ‘Well, go then!’ you said roughly, 
stamping your foot, but your voice broke, and tears filled 
the angry eyes. I did not go — our trembling hands sud- 
denly met in a clasp which death only could sever — that 
was the beginning of our love. 

“Could you think that I could forget this, and after 
withstanding for years the angry entreaties of my parents, 
break my troth to you of my own free will? They called 
you a beggar, the vagabond son of a shoemaker, who 
would never earn a living, even with all his grand ideas 
— they threatened to curse and cut me off, but I was firm, 
and it was easy to be firm, for you were near me. But 
when your parents died and you went to Leipzig to 
study, then a fearful time came ! One day, a tall, slender 
figure appeared in my father’s house, a man with a pale 


256 


THE OLD MAM' SELL E'S SECRET. 


face and sly canning lines about his mouth and around 
his eyes which looked out from under a low forehead 
crowned by straight thin hair. My instinct was true, 
Oscar, I knew that evil crossed our threshold in that 
man’s shape. My father judged this Paul Hellwig other- 
wise. He was a near relative of ours, the son of a man 
who had made his way in the world, and was now in- 
stalled in a lucrative office. Thus the visit of our young 
cousin was an honour to us, and he had a low bow and a 
sweet sanctimonious smile and word for all ! 

“You know how the wretch dared to speak of love to 
me, and you know how indignantly I rejected him — he 
was mean and dishonourable enough to appeal to my 
father, who ardently desired the connection, and now ter- 
rible days for me began. No letters came from you. My 
father intercepted them. I found them with my own 
among the papers which he left. I was treated like a cap- 
tive, but no one could force me to remain in the room 
when he entered it. I flew then like some hunted thing 
through the house, and the spirits of your ancestors pro- 
tected me, Oscar, — I found many a hiding-place where I 
was secure from discovery. 

“Was it the invisible finger of one of these spirits 
which one day pointed out to me a glittering gold coin 
upon the ground ? 

“A wall in the poultry-yard had sunk somewhat, and 
workmen had been busy in the afternoon in repairing the 
damage, and had torn down the defective portion. I was 
sitting upon the ruins dreaming of the time when these 
stones had first been helped together, when, just at my 
feet, I saw a golden coin lying in the grass. It was not 
the only one, and, in the masonry of the wall, there was 
a yellow glimmer. Probably a large portion of the hugely 
thick wall had fallen after the workmen had left the yard, 


THE OLD MA M' SELL E ’ S SECRET. 


257 


for there was a great pile of rubbish lying there, and from 
among the broken edges of the part that was still stand- 
ing, projected the sharp corner of a wooden chest — there 
was a crack in one side of it, and through this crack the 
yellow gold gleamed. 

“Oscar, I did not follow, as I should have done, the 
shadowy finger of your ancestor. I called my father, and 
the man whom I loathed came into the poultry-yard with 
him. They together extricated the chest, and turned the 
large key, which was yet sticking in the lock. 

“The Swedes had had nothing to do with it, Oscar. 
There lay the two bracelets carefully preserved — there lay 
the sixty thousand thalers in gold and the yellow parch- 
ments and papers of the Hirschsprungs. Old Adrian 
had concealed everything here as the Swedish army ap- 
proached. I was intoxicated with joy. * Father,’ I ex- 
ulted, ‘Oscar is no longer a beggar!’ 

“1 see him still as he stood there! You know his face 
was grave and stern ; mirth was hardly possible in his 
presence, but his whole appearance bore the impress of 
incorruptible integrity. He was more respected than any 
one else in the town, — but now he stood leaning over the 
chest plunging his hands into the heap of golden coin. 
What a strange glance fell upon me from his cold 
eyes! ‘The shoemaker’s son!’ he said, ‘what has he to 
do with it?’ 

“ ‘ Why, this money is his, father !’ I had old Adrian’s 
will in my hand, and pointed to the name of Hirschsprung. 

“Oh, how terribly his face changed! — that face usually 
so rigid. 

“‘Are you mad?’ he cried aloud, shaking my arm vio- 
lently. ‘ This house, with all which it contains, belongs 
to me, and I should like to see who can rob me of one 
penny of my property !’ 

R 


22 * 


258 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


*** You are quite right, dear cousin,’ affirmed Paul Hell* 
wig in his gentlest voice. ' But some years ago the house, 
with all that it contained, belonged to my grandfather.’ 

'“Yes, Paul, I do not deny your claim,’ said my fa- 
ther. They carried the chest into the house. No one 
knew of what had happened except myself and the last 
ray of the setting sun which had glided curiously over 
the golden store. It faded to rise again on the morrow 
upon many a happy human being, but I wandered about 
seeing only night and woe and crime wherever I looked. 

“That very evening I heard from my father that Paul 
Hell wig had claimed and received twenty thousand tha- 
lers and one of the bracelets. 

“Do you know now what I endured while you were 
thinking me faithless and frivolous ? I stood alone in 
the struggle with my two tormentors. My stern but up- 
right mother was dead, and my only brother was away 
travelling in foreign lands. They no longer required of 
me only that I should renounce my love for you — I must 
bind myself to secrecy concerning all that I knew — se- 
crecy toward you and toward the world — and this I could 
not do. Did not your heart sometimes throb in sympa- 
thy with mine at the times when I firmly confronted my 
father, even when his hand was raised to strike to the 
earth his * obstinate and unnatural daughter V 

“I had retained in my possession old Adrian’s will — 
they did not know that — and one evening, when Paul 
Hellwig contemptuously asked how I could prove the 
discovery of the treasure, I referred to this paper, — and 
then came the fearful end! My father had just returned 
from a public dinner, his face was flushed, — he was evi- 
dently somewhat excited by wine. Upon my reference 
to the will, he seized my wrists in his iron grasp, and 
held them so tightlv that I cried out with the pain, while 


THE OLD MAM 1 BELLE'S SECRET. 259 

he looked savagely in my face, and asked me whether 
his respectability was worth nothing to me. He had 
scarcely uttered the last word, when he dropped my 
hands, his face grew purple, — he put up both his own 
hands to his neck, and suddenly fell powerless upon the 
floor at my feet. He still breathed when we lifted him 
Yes, he was even conscious, for his gaze rested 
upon my face with a fearful, imploring look. Then, Os- 
car, I gave up ! When the physician left the room for a 
moment, I drew out the will from my bosom and held it 
to the lighted candle. I could not look at my father, — 
but with averted face, I took a solemn oath that I would 
be silent forever, that no blot should stain his honour by 
my consent. And Paul Hellwig smiled like a fiend as 
he heard my oath. Oh, Oscar, this I did. I secured to 
my family your inheritance, just at the time when want 
had stretched you upon your death-bed !” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

Felicitas closed the book, — she could read no further. 
Without, the storm howled and beat against the window- 
panes, so that they rattled again, — but what was their 
raging to the tempests that had torn the soul of her whose 
hand had written what she had just read! 

Aunt Cordula had been racked and tortured. Those 
who revelled in the possession of stolen wealth, had taken 
up their position upon the pedestal of hereditary virtue 
and integrity, and had rejected her as utterly depraved, — 
and the Mind world had confirmed the sentence passed 


2G0 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


upon her She had lived alone, slandered and defamed, — 
but not one word of her secret ever passed her sealed 
lips. She had called down no curse upon the world of 
the little town at her feet, — but many of those who be- 
lieved her guilty, had been nourished and supported by 
her helping hand, which was* never closed against a suf- 
fering fellow-creature. Her strong mind had created its 
own world, — and the gentle smile which transfigured the 
features of the old Mam’selle, was proof of the triumph 
of her exalted nature. • 

What an inexplicable riddle is public opinion! The 
world contains nothing more untrustworthy, and yet how 
often it decides the entire earthly fate of individuals! Do 
not whole families sometimes suffer for years, under the 
ban which public opinion has passed upon one of its mem- 
bers ; and are there not other families who live always 
surrounded by a nimbus of hereditary virtue and honesty 
which they have been at no pains to acquire, simply be- 
cause public opinion declares them ‘good!’ Ah, how 
much bold knavery goes unpunished, how much quiet 
merit unrewarded, at the arbitrary nod of public opinion ! 

The Hellwig family had always stood on the loftiest 
height of an hereditary stainless reputation. If any one 
had dared to point to the stateliest and most solemn of 
the portraits which hung on the walls of the large roam 
in the second story and declare : that man is a thief! the 
accuser would have lost caste at once, — and yet that 
stately merchant had robbed the poor shoemaker’s son of 
his inheritance — had died with this crime on his soul, 

and his posterity prided themselves upon the wealth 

'hardly and honestly earned’ — of the old house. Ah, if 
ne who had sacrificed his own hopes in life to time-hon- 
oured tradition — who had so long held to the belief that 
virtue, intellect, integrity were the consequences of rank 


THE OLD MAH'SELLE'S SECRET. 


261 


and position, while personal worth had so little weight— 
could only have had a glimpse of these pages! 

Involuntarily Felicitas lifted the book high in air, as 
if in triumph, and her eyes sparkled, — what prevented 
her from leaving the little gray box with its terrible con- 
tents there upon the writing-table ? He would enter and 
sit down unsuspectingly in the pleasant ivy-hung room. 
With his mind full of his work he would take up the pen 
to go on with the manuscript before him. Suddenly he 
would see the strange little box, — would raise the cover, 
take out the book, and read — read till the blood should 
forsake his cheek and the light of the still gray eyes grow 
dim under the load of the terrible discovery. His proud 
self-confidence would be gone forever. In secret he must 
bear the burden of his disgrace. The comfort that he 
takes in his luxurious surroundings is stolen joy, — when 
he thinks of his respectable name — there is an ugly blot 
upon it, — his peace of mind is fled — destroyed for all 
time! 

Box and book fell to the ground, and the hot tears 
streamed over the girl’s cheeks. No! a thousand times 
rather die than do him this injury. Were the lips from 
which those last words came gaspingly the same from 
which, within these four walls, so short a time before, the 
words had proceeded — “I know that I should feel no 
pity for any misfortune that might happen to him, and it 
by only raising my finger I could do him a kindnes*, I 
should never do it?” Was it really the old wild hate 
which forced the tears from her eyes and filled her heart 
with woe at the thought of his possible suffering? Was 
the sudden glow with which she conjured up his well-knit, 
powerful figure before her mental vision, aversion ? and 
had the blissful conviction that she was destined to guard 
him from an annihilating blow any connection with the 


262 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


hateful desire for revenge? Hate, aversion, and the wish 
for revenge — they were all extinguished in her soul! On 
she was drifting, rudderless. She staggered and covered 
her face with her hands. The mysterious struggle within 
her was made clear to her now, — not by the light of a 
heavenly ray revealing a sunny landscape before un- 
suspected, but by a lurid flash of lightning showing 
her the abyss before her, upon whose brink she was 
tottering. 

Away, away from the spot ! There is nothing to keep 
her here any longer. Across the roofs once more, — then 
a step over the threshold of the old house and she is free 
— gone never to return — gone forever. 

She picked up the book, dropped it into her pocket, 
and, holding her breath for a moment, stood as if stiff- 
ened into stone, — in the passage without a door was 
heard to shut, and hasty steps approached the room 
where she was. She flew to the glass door and tore it 
open. The wind rushed in, blowing large drops of rain 
into her face. Her eyes wandered over the four roofs, — 
she could not pass over them now — she would be seen — 
her only safety was in immediate concealment. 

On the broad railing at the side of the gallery, out of 
sight of any one standing within the glass door, there 
was a narrow space unoccupied by any flower-pots. In 
an instant Felicitas had climbed upon it, and, as the 
rushing wind struck her, she seized and steadied herself 
by the iron elbow of the lightning-rod which was carried 
over the roof of the apartments just at this spot. Ah, 
how the gust shook the slender figure, threatening in a 
new access of rage to hurl her down the abyss which 
yawned on one side of her into the street below ! Black 
storm-clouds were driving furiously above her. Was 
there no angel behind that tossing, tempestuous mass to 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 


263 


stretch his arms protectingly over the young girl who 
was wrestling with such frightful peril? 

If any one should come out upon the gallery now, the 
girl standing there must be in his eyes as a thief. She 
had entered a closely locked and bolted apartment, — the 
world called such an act burglary. Suspicion that she 
knew all about the missing silver had already been at- 
tached to her, and now her guilt would be clear as day- 
light. She would not be allowed to leave the old mer- 
chant’s house voluntarily — she would be expelled from 
it, with the brand of crime upon her brow — and, like 
Aunt Cordula, she would be obliged silently and inno- 
cently to bear the burden of unmerited disgrace and 
shame as long as she lived. Would it be so hard to yield 
herself up to the fury of the storm, and, after only a few 
moments of agony, breathe out her young life upon the 
stones of the street below ? 

She looked once more towards the glass door, — the 
person who had entered the room had not fulfilled Fe- 
licitas’ last despairing hope by remaining behind it. 
Spite of the storm and rain, he stepped out further and 
further upon the gallery, and now she could see who it 
was — it was the Professor. Had he heard the girl’s re- 
treating steps ? His back was turned to her — it was still 
possible that he might return without seeing her, but 
down swept the traitor-blast — it forced the Professor to 
turn round, and wildly tossed the garment and hair of 
the fugitive, — and he saw the girl, her face looking down 
upon him, white and ghostly, with despairing eyes, from 
among the tossing masses of loosened hair, while one 
arm was convulsively encircling the lightning-rod. 

For one moment it seemed to her that all the blood in 
her body forsook her veins beneath the look of horror 
witn which he gazed at her, and then it rushed wildly 


264 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET 


to her head and robbed her of the last remnant of self- 
possession 

“Yes, here stands the thief! Bring the officers of jus- 
tice! call Madame Hellwig! I am discovered 1” she 
cried with a wild laugh. She let go the lightning-rod 
for a moment and put back her hair which the storm had 
blown about her face. 

“For God’s sake,” shouted the Professor, “clasp the 
rod tightly, — you are lost !” 

“It were better for me if the end had come!” sounded 
wailingly through the roaring and whistling of the wind. 

He did not see the narrow space upon which Felicitas 
was standing. In an instant he threw over the boxes of 
flowers and mounted to her side. With irresistible force 
he clasped her struggling form, drew her down to the 
gallery and into the apartment. The door closed after 
them with a crash. 

The girl’s strong courageous spirit was broken ; utterly 
bewildered, she was unconscious that her supposed ac- 
cuser was still supporting her, — her eyes were closed, 
and she did not see how earnestly his gaze was resting 
upon her pale face. “Felicitas,” he whispered, in a deep 
tone of entreaty. 

She started up, and her consciousness returned. Once 
more the bitter hatred which she had fed in her soul for 
so many years seemed to take possession of her, — she 
tore herself away from him, and again the old demonic 
expression lighted up her face, — the deep frown appeared 
between her eyebrows, and the lines around her mouth 
grew hard and full of scorn. 

“How can you touch the Pariah!” she cried. But her 
erect form staggered again, — she buried her face in her 

hands and said, in a smothered voice: “Question me, 

my statement shall satisfy you!” 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


265 


He took her hands gently between his own. 

“You must first be more composed, Felicitas,” he said 
in that tender soothing tone which had touched her in 
spite of herself by the bed of the sick child. “Forget 
the wild words with which you always seek to wound 
me. Look round, — see where we are. Did you not play 
here when a little child? Was it not in these rooms that 
the lonely woman, whom you so bravely defended to- 
day, extended to you protection, instruction, and love? 
Whatever you did here, or came for, I know well that it 
was nothing wrong, Felicitas. You are defiant, wounded, 
— and very proud, — and this sometimes makes you unjust 
and unkind, — but you are utterly incapable of meanness. 
I cannot tell why, — but I felt that I must find you up 
here. Heinrich’s shy, embarrassed face — his involuntary 
glance towards the stairs when I asked after you, con- 
firmed me in the thought. Do not say a word!” he con- 
tinued, raising his voice, as she lifted her burning eyes 
to him, and opened her lips. “ I will question you — but 
not in the sense that you mean — and have I not some 
right to question you after climbing through wind and 
storm to bring down my noble fir-tree?” 

He drew her further into the room, — it seemed as if 
the light near the glass door was too brilliant for him, — 
he needed the half-twilight of the more retired part of the 
apartment to speak further. Felicitas felt his hands trem- 
ble. She stood just upon the spot where a few moments 
before she had had so fearful a struggle with herself — 
where she had been tempted to stab him to the heart, to 
indict a wound upon him that he would carry with him 
as long as he lived. She bent her head like one convicted 
of guilt beneath the eyes, once so grave and serious, 
whicti now glowed with such intensity of feeling. 

“Feli?itas, you might have fallen,” he said, and at the 
23 


266 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECR. IT. 


mere thought a shudder ran through his powerful frame. 
“ Shall I tell you what you have caused me with your 
unconquerable pride, that would rather die than appeal 
to the calm reason of others? Do you not think that a 
moment of such concentrated agony — such indescribable 
despair — may partly expiate the injustice of years?” 

He ceased, waiting for a reply, but her pale lips did 
not move, and her eyes sought the ground. 

“Your own embittered views of all that I can do and 
say have actually grown into your very soul,” he said, 
after a moment of vain expectation, in a despairing tone. 
“It is impossible for you to believe in any change.” He 
had dropped her hands, but he took her right hand once 
more and pressed it to his heart. “ Felicitas, you said a 
little while ago that you idolized your mother, this mother 
called you Fay, all who love you call you thus. Listen 
to me when I say ‘Fay, I pray you to forgive me!” 

“I am no longer angry,” she managed to gasp out in 
a smothered voice. 

“That is much — much from your lips — more than I 
had a right to expect, — but it does not content me. What 
consolation is it to know you are reconciled if we must 
part never to meet again ? What comfort can I have in 
knowing that you are no longer angry if I cannot con- 
vince myself of it at all hours? When two people who 
have been as far apart as we have been are reconciled, 
they belong to each other. I cannot endure that a single 
mile should separate us. Ah, go with me, Fay!” 

“ The life in the school which you propose to me would 
be odious, I cannot conform to its rules,” she answered 
hurriedly and with effort. 

The shadow of a smile flitted across his countenance. 

“Oh I do not propose it to you! — That school plan 
was only a pretence, Fay. I could not have endured it 


THE OLD MAM* SELLS'S SECRET. 26T 

Why, one, two days might have passed without my see- 
ing you, and when I did see you a dozen impertinent 
girls might hare stood around us hearing all that we 
said, or Madame Berg, the strict disciplinarian, would 
have been present, and would never have suffered me to 
take this little hand in mine. No, I must be able to look 
into this dear proud face every hour of the day, — I must 
know that when I return home after the weary labour of 
the day, my Fay is waiting for me and thinking of me. 
On still evenings when we are alone together I must be 
able to entreat for a song, Fay, — but all this can only — 
ah, be my wife, Fay!” 

Felicitas uttered a cry and tried to extricate her hands 
from his clasp — but he held them more firmly than be- 
fore. 

“The thought terrifies you, Felicitas,” he said, in great 
agitation. “Let me hope that my abruptness has some 
share in causing your terror. 1 know that a long time 
must elapse before you can respond to me — with your 
character the change must be a slow one which can con- 
vert a detested enemy into an object of affection. But I 
will woo you with the patience of undying love; I will 
wait — hard as it will be — until you yourself, of your own 
free will, say to me: ‘John, I will!’ I know what mi- 
raculous changes can take place in the human heart. I 
fled from the little town to escape from myself and the 
fearful struggles in my soul, — and what happened ? The 
previous conflict was insignificant in comparison with 
the torturing longing that possessed me. I knew that I 
had been endeavouring to crush out my eternal happi- 
ness. 

“Fay, in the midst of gay conversation and coquettish 
faces, the lonely girl with her proud bearing and her 
White brow, bei ind which dwelt such a brave honest 


268 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE’S SECRET. 


spirit, was always by my side wherever we wei t, — over 
hill and dale, she belonged to me; she was the ether half 
of my life. I could not tear myself from her without in- 
flicting upon myself a mortal wound ! And now give me 
one kind consoling word, Felicitas.” 

The young girl had gradually withdrawn her hand 
from his. How was it possible that the change in he? 
face and figure while he spoke should escape him? The 
eyes from which all hope seemed to have departed were 
riveted to the ground: the forehead was contracted as if 
with physical pain, and the icy hands were clasped con- 
vulsively. 

“ Shall I give you consolation?” she rejoined in a low 
tone. “An hour ago, you said to me, ‘This shall be your 
last struggle,’ and now with your own hand you plunge 
me into the most fearful conflict that the human soul can 
undergo. What is the struggle with foes without in 
comparison with a conflict within with one’s self?” She 
raised her clasped hands and threw back her head with 
a gesture of despair. “ What crime have I committed 
that God should put this wretched love into my heart I” 

“Fay!” 

He extended his arms to draw her to his breast, — but 
she repulsed him with outstretched hands, although a 
ray of joy lit up her face for one moment. “Yes — I love 
you — you shall know it, — I love you,” she repeated in 
tones vibrating between exultation and tears. “ I could 
at this moment say ‘John, I will !’ but these words shall 
never be spoken!” 

He started back, — he knew the girl with that proud 
bearing and fair forehead much too well not to fear that 
this declaration was a death-blow to his hopes. 

“You fled from X , and why?” she began again, 

looking most searchingly into the eyes wb ose glow had 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


'269 


entirely <iaded. “I will tell you. Your love for me was a 
crime ag-tinst your position, — your name; it contradicted 
all your most cherished prejudices and ideas, and was to 
be rooted out of your heart as unworthy of you. That 
you return from your flight uncured was not your fault. 
The same power which forces me to love you against my 
will, conquered you. You must have had a hard strug- 
gle before you could ask the player’s child to take her 
place among your proud, respectable merchant kin, — 
nothing in the world could convince me that I should 
retain this place forever! You told me a few weeks ago 
of your unalterable conviction that inequality of position 
was always an obstacle to happiness in marriage. You 
have held firmly to this conviction for God only knows 
how long, and it is impossible that in six weeks it can 
have vanished, leaving not a trace behind; it is only 
whitewashed over — suspended for awhile. And, even if 
it has yielded to other convictions, what time must not 
elapse, — what changes must not occur before the remem- 
brance of your declaration can fade from my mind!” 

She ceased for a moment, exhausted. J ohn had cov- 
ered his face with his hands. Now he dropped them 
slowly, and said, with despairing composure: “The past 
is all against me, — and yet you are wrong, Felicitas. 0 
God, how shall I prove it to you!” 

“There has been no change, not the smallest, in our 
outward circumstances,” she continued unrelentingly. 
“No stain has fallen upon your family, nor has anything 
occurred to elevate my despised position, — it is my per- 
sonal influence alone w T hich has effected this change in 
you ; it would be rash and unjustifiable in me to take ad- 
vantage of the moment when, hushing with determina- 
tion the voice of your firmest convictions, you give ear 
only to ti e voice of love. I ask you, upon your con- 
23 * 


210 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


science, do you not ^alue above all things the unstained 
past of your family? And have you succeeded in per- 
suading yourself for one moment that those ancestors, 
whose wives were always of equal raiik with their own, 
could look with favour upon the alliance of their descend- 
ant with a juggler’s daughter?” 

“Felicitas, you say you love me, and yet you can tor- 
ture me so frightfully 1” he cried. 

Iler gaze, which had rested unalterably upon his coun- 
tenance, melted. Who had ever before seen in those 
proud eyes the unutterable tenderness which now glowed 
in them ! She took his right hand in both her own. 

“While you were, a little while ago, describing to me 
life by your side, I suffered more thau I can tell,” she 
said, deeply moved; “hundreds of others, perhaps, would, 
in my place, have shut their eyes to the future, and seized 
upon present happiness, — but, made as I am, I cannot do 
this. During my whole life the dread that you might 
repent your act would stand like a phantom between us. 
At every gloomy look of yours — every frown upon your 
forehead, I should think: ‘The time has come now, he 
laments his conversion from his former views — he has 
returned to them, and he inwardly blames you as the 
cause of his fall!’ I should make you wretched with my 
mistrust, which I could never overcome.” 

“This is a fearful retaliation I” he said in a low suffer- 
ing tone. “ But I will gladly take this wretchedness that 
you speak of to my heart. I will bear } our mistrust, how- 
ever wounding it may be, without a murmur. A time 
must come when all will be clear between us. Felicitas, 
I will make a home for you where anxious thoughts dare 
not intrude. It may indeed often happen that I shall 
bring home with me gloomy looks and frowns, — but if 1 
can find my Fay there, the frowns; wjl J disappe&t, the 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


2U 


gloom be changed to sunshine. Can you really find it in 
your heart to trample your own love under foot and to 
render wretched a man whom you can make supremely 
happy ?” 

Felicitas had gradually approached the door — she felt 
that her resolution was proving false to her against his 
pleading eloquence, and yet for his sake she must be 
firm. 

“If you could live with me alone, and in retirement, ” 
she replied as she seized the handle of the door as if it 
were her last refuge, “I would willingly follow you. Do 
not think that 1 dread the world and its sentence — its 
judgments are almost alwa} r s blind and undiscerning, but 
I fear the enemy within you in intercourse with society. 
There a ‘respectable origiu’ is everything, and I know 
that you agree with the world. You have great family 
pride, although at the present moment you give no ear 
to its warnings, in intercourse with others sooner or later 
the thought would come that you have sacrificed much, 
very much for me.” 

“In other words, if I would call you mine, I must 
either give up all hope of being of any service in the 
world, and live in a desert, or I must search out some 
stain, some unworthy act in the past of my family!” he 
exclaimed. 

A flaming blush suffused her cheek at these words. 
Involuntarily her hand glided among the folds of her 
dress, and she felt for the sharp corners of the little gray 
box, that she might be sure it was quite safe in its hiding- 
place. 

The Professor walked up and down the room in the 
greatest agitation. 

“The stern unbending element in your character never 
yields, I know it well,” he continued. “It fascinates and 


272 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


embitters me at the same time. Even at this moment, 
when with harsh consistency you trample my affection 
beneach your feet and condemn yourself to such a useless 
sacrifice, my love burns stronger than ever. I know well 
that I cannot for the present advance one step with you, 
— but give you up I I do not dream of it. Your assurance 
that you love me I regard as a solemn vow. You will 
never be false to me, Felicitas?” 

“No!” she replied quickly, and entirely against hei 
will a ray of unutterable love beamed from her eyes. 

The Professor put his hand upon her head and gently 
bent it back, looking in her face with a gaze in which pain, 
anger, and passion were strangely mingled. He shook his 
head as her eyelids fell and her lips closed firmly beneath 
his scrutiny — and then he sighed profoundly. 

“ There, — go 1” he said with forced composure. “I con- 
sent to a temporary separation, but upon condition that I 
may see you often wherever you are, and that you will 
write to me and let me write to you.” 

She blamed herself for her weakness in extending her 
hand to him assentingly, but she could not resist the 
temptation to accord him this consolation. He turned 
away and she left the room. 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


273 


CHAPTER XXY. 

Outside in her agony she stretched her ar.ns to 
Heaven. How had the torturing pain of these last 
moments caused all the other griefs of her young life to 
fade into insignificance ! 

Unconsciously she drew out of her pocket the little 
box — within it lay the secret which would level the bar- 
riers between the man whom she loved and herself, — it 
would weigh heavily in the balance against her mean 
origin, — was the tempter again assailing her? No, Aunt 
Cordula, your will shall be done — although this book 
would justify you so thoroughly ! And he? Time will 
work wonders, — the pain of renunciation ennobles the 
soul. The fatal little book shall be destroyed instantly 
— it shall be consumed to ashes. Felicitas looked back 
once towards the room, where she could hear the Pro- 
fessor pacing restlessly to and fro, then glided down the 
narrow staircase, and noiselessly opened the painted 
door. 

The traveller who, wandering through the meadows, 
steps unconsciously upon the writhing body of a snake, 
and sees the reptile erect his deadly fangs directly before 
him, is not more horrified than was Felicitas as she 
stepped into the corridor. Five fingers encircled with an 
iron grasp her left hand in which she held the little box, 
and close to her face glistened two greenish eyes, — they 
were the soft Madonna-like orbs of the Councillor’s 
widow. 

The beautiful woman had at this moment entirely 
thrown aside her fascinating garment of grace and ten- 
S 


274 


TIIE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECllET. 


derness, — bow energetically and even roughly those iorfy 
fingers, which were accustomed to be so gently folded in 
prayer, could clutch and hold I What an expression of 
satanic malice transformed those angelic features 1 They 
were scarcely to be recognized ! 

“How charming this is, my beautiful proud Caroline; 
I happen to meet you just as you are about to secure this 
lovely little jewel-case !” she cried with a jeering laugh as 
she seized also with her other hand the wrist which the 
girl was vainly struggling to free from her vice-like grasp. 
“Have the kindness to hold this little traitor one moment 
longer in your hand, — I would not have you let it fall 
quite yet. Have patience for one instant. I need a wit- 
ness to prove in court that the thief was caught in the 
act. John! John!” 

The young widow’s melting voice, usually so expressive 
of Christian love and pity, rang shrill and piercing through 
the corridor. 

“I beg you, for God’s sake, Madame, let me go!” im- 
plored Felicitas in deadly terror. 

“Not for the world! He shall see whom he placed by 
his side to-day. It was delightful to hear — ‘ Her place is 
here!’ — was it not, my charming coquette? Your aim 
was, you thought, accomplished, — but I am here, — the 
game is not yet at an end!” 

She repeated her cry for help, — it was unnecessary, — 
her cousin had already descended the stairs, and was just 
opening the door as Heinrich also appeared at the other 
end of the corridor. 

“Oh, were you up there, John?” cried the Councillor’s 
Widow. “ I thought you were below. But the art of the 
juggler’s daughter is only the more admirable since she 
has contrived to conjure away your old aunt’s legacy from 
unde your very eyes!” 


TEE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


275 


“Are you beside yourself, Adele?” he asked, qurckly 
leaving the last stair, whence he had surveyed the incom- 
prehensible scene in the greatest astonishment. 

“ Oh, not at all,” she replied. “ Do not think me violent, 
cousin, because I am compelled to undertake the office of 
a bailiff; but Herr Franz, you know, indignantly refused 
me his assistance in the discovery of the theft of the silver 
plate, and you yourself took this sweet innocent under 
your wing, — what was there for me to do but to act upon 
my own responsibility? You see these five fingers hold 
ing the casket which they have just brought down stairs, 
— so far, so good, — now we will see what the magpie was 
bearing off to her nest.” 

She snatched the box from Felicitas’ hand. The girl 
uttered a cry and tried to recover it, but the young widow 
fled with her prey along the corridor, laughing loudly, as 
in feverish haste she lifted the cover. 

“A book!” she muttered, disappointed, — the box fell 
upon the floor. She took the volume in both hands, held 
it open by its covers, and shook it violently, — there must 
certainly be banknotes, deeds, or some papers of value 
hidden between the leaves, — but nothing of the kind ap- 
peared. 

In the mean time Felicitas had partly recovered from 
her terror. She followed the lady and earnestly requested 
her to return the book to her; but in spite of her forced 
composure her feverish anxiety was only too apparent. 

“How, — are you really in earnest?” said the young 
widow spitefully, clutching the book tightly as she turned 
her back upon her. “You appear altogether too much 
disturbed to allay my suspicions,” she continued, looking 
contemptuously back over her shoulder at Felicitas. “ The 
book must have something to do with some p ot of yours, 
— let us see what it is, my dearl” 


276 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 


She opened the volume, — it contained no banknotes, — - 
nothing 3f value, only delicately written words upon its 
yellow leaves ; but had a dagger been suddenly pointed 
at the young widow’s breast from its ugly pages, she 
could not have been struck more utterly aghast than she 
was at the sight of the few words which met her eye 
upon one of the leaves which she had hastily turned over. 
The rosy face grew ashy to the very lips, — instinctively 
she covered her eyes with her hand, and tottered for one 
moment as though she were giddy. 

But she had learned to control every outward look and 
action, in order to walk before the world surrounded by 
the nimbus of sanctity. She knew how to cast up her 
eyes piously to Heaven, while her heart was full of spite 
and malice, — she could listen with an air of intense devo- 
tion to a sermon, while her mind was busied with a charm- 
ing new toilette, — she often lamented, with holy indigna- 
tion flushing her cheeks, over the sinful ways of the world 
and the neglect of the Bible, while she was devoted in 
secret to the worst of French romances. 

This incredible flexibility and elasticity of outward de- 
meanour had often during her life stood her in good stead, 
and it did not fail her now. In a few seconds she had 
entirely recovered herself. She closed the book with an 
admirably simulated smile of disappointment. 

“It is, indeed, wretched old trash!” she said to her 
cousin, — while, as if half unconsciously, she put the book 
into her pocket. “You certainly have been uncommonly 
silly, Caroline, to make such a noise about such nonsen- 
sical stuff!” 

“Did she make the noise?” asked the Professor, step- 
ping quickly towards her, and with difficulty controlling 
himself. 11 1 thought you called me to your assistance, 
that you might convict this young girl of the theft of 


TEE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


277 


the silver in the presence of witnesses. Do me the favour 
to justify now, here upon the spot, your shameful accu- 
sation ?” 

“You see that I really am not prepared, instantly ” 

“ Instantly !” he interrupted her. “ You must recall on 
the spot this insulting charge ; and in Heinrich’s and my 
presence make the fullest apology for all you have said 
and done!” 

“Most willingly, dear John! It is our Christian duty 
to acknowledge and beg forgiveness for an error. My 
dear Caroline, pray forgive me, I have done you injustice.” 

“And now give back the book,” said her cousin, in a 
harsh, unrelenting tone. 

“The book?” she asked, with all her old air of naive 
innocence. “Ah, dear John, it does not belong to Caro- 
line !” 

“Who told you that?” 

“I saw Aunt Cordula’s name written in it. If any one 
has any right to it it is yourself, as heir to her books and 
furniture. But it is apparently not of any value, — it 
seems to be filled with old poetical extracts. What 
would you do with such sentimental stuff? But I like 
such old yellow books. In spite of their worn soiled 
leaves, they have a great charm for me. I pray you give 
it to me?” 

“Perhaps I may, after I have looked at it,” he replied, 
shrugging his shoulders, and holding out his hand for 
the volume. 

“But I should value it much more, if you would give 
it to me without looking at it,” she continued, in a gentle, 
coaxing tone of entreaty. “ Do not let me think that you 
wish to ascertain the actual worth of the only present that 
I have ever asked you to make me!” 

The Professor looked angry indeed. “ I declare to you, ” 
24 


278 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


said he, “that what you may think of my persistence is a 
matter of entire indifference to me. I insist upon seeing 
the book, — I suspect you. Some extracts from old sen- 
timental poetry could scarcely suffice to make so self- 
possessed a lady as yourself turn suddenly pale with 
terror.” 

As he spoke he stepped in front of her, — her uncertain 
glance which had measured like lightning the length of 
the corridor, and a quick gesture betrayed unmistakably 
that she wished to take to flight. Her cousin seized her 
hand and detained her. 

Felicitas was beside herself at the thought that he 
might attain his purpose. It was terrible to see the book 
in the possession of the dissembler, but she acknowledged 
to herself that it was as safe there as in her own hands, 
and that it would certainly be soon devoted to destruc- 
tion. She therefore placed herself by the side of the 
young widow to assist her flight if necessary. 

“ I pray you, Herr Professor, to let your cousin keep 
the book,” she entreated with all the serious composure 
that she could command at this critical moment. “ By its 
perusal she can easily convince herself that she was too 
hasty in supposing that the little box could contain any- 
thing of value.” 

The first distrustful glance that she had ever seen in 
the steel gray eyes scanned her face — it was like the stab 
of a knife, — she crimsoned and cast down her eyes. 

“And you too come with an entreaty !” he said. “ There 
is certainly something more in the matter than ‘sentimen- 
tal trash.’ I remember now that my cousin declared that 
you looked very anxious, and I confess to having observed 
the same thing. Now I ask you, ‘upon your conscience,’ 
— ‘What does the book contain?’” 

It was a terrible moment, — Felicitas struggled for com- 


THE OLD MAM SELLE’S SECRET. 


279 


posuie, — she opened her lips, but they refused to utter a 
word. 

“You need not trouble yourself, ” he said to her with 
an ironical smile, while he grasped still more firmly his 
cousin’s wrist, as she writhed in all directions to escape 
from him. “The book then contains no poetic fancies, 
but facts, — and facts which I shall most certainly make 
myself master of at all hazards. Will you at last have 
the great kindness, Adele, to give up to me what, as you 
have already declared, is my own property?” 

“ Whatever you do to me, you shall never have it,” the 
Councillor’s widow replied with despairing energy — drop- 
ping in her fierce passion her role of childlike gentleness. 
She made a violent effort to extricate herself, and suc- 
ceeded, — she flew down the long corridor, but at the end 
of it stood Heinrich, his arms spread out like a wall, fill- 
ing the entire passage. She shrunk back. “Insolent 
wretch! get out of my way !” she cried, stamping her foot 
frantically. 

“ In a moment, most gracious lady,” he replied very 
quietly and respectfully without altering his position one 
hair’s breadth, — “only give up the little book, and I will 
step aside instantly !” 

“Heinrich!” cried Felicitas, rushing up to him, and at- 
tempting to pull down his arms in her despair. 

“Ah, that’ll do no good, Fay,” he said with a grin as 
his old bones easily withstood her efforts to move them. 
“I am not as stupid as you think. You’d be very likely 
to do yourself an injury out of pure good nature, — and I 
won’t have it!” 

“Let the lady pass, Heinrich!” said the Professor 
gravely. “ But let me tell you, Adele, that I shall im- 
mediately adopt all the means in my power to recover 
my property! No one can hinder me from supposing that 


280 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


that book contains important revelations concerning my 
aunt’s estate — possibly it may allude to portions of her 
property that have hitherto lain undiscovered.” 

“Oh no, no!” cried Felicitas interrupting him. 

“It is my affair to suppose what I choose!” he rejoined 
sternly, — “and you as well as Heinrich can testify, if 
need be, before the proper authorities that this lady has 
perhaps appropriated a considerable portion of my family 
property.” 

His cousin started as though stung by an adder. She 
looked savagely at her unrelenting tormentor, and then 
the frenzy took possession of her under whose sway she 
tore up handkerchiefs and shattered cups. She snatched 
the book from her pocket and threw it upon the floor at 
his feet with a shrill, bitter laugh. 

“ Take it, you stubborn fool 1” she cried, and her whole 
frame quivered convulsively. “I wish you joy of your 
prize. Bear the disgrace which you will find in it with 
what dignity you may 1” 

She flew along the corridor, down the stairs, and they 
heard the door of her own room locked and bolted be- 
hind her. 

Her cousin looked after her with an expression of utter 
contempt, and then picking up the book, he examined for 
a moment its clumsy covers, while Felicitas’ eyes were 
riveted in the greatest anxiety upon tLc hands that held 
the volume, and that might open it at any moment. His 
features betrayed a mixture of anxious thought and pain- 
ful emotion, — the last mysterious words of the Council- 
lor’s widow had evidently not shocked him, he ha*d ap- 
parently expected some such termination to the previous 
scene — it only remained to be ascertained what manner 
of disgrace had been foretold him. Suddenly he looked 
up into Felicitas’ beseeching brown eyes, — what powei 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 


281 


those eyes had over the stern man ! It seemed as if 
some gentle hand passed over his face, smoothing the 
wrinkles on his brow, while a half smile quivered about 
his lips. 

“And now you must be brought to judgment 1” he be- 
gan. “You have shamefully circumvented me; while 
you confronted me up-stairs with an appearance of integ- 
rity upon which I would have staked my existence you 
were carrying the Hellwig family secrets about with you 
in your pocket. What must I think of you, Fay? You 
can atone for such ugly dissimulation only by answering 
all my questions frankly without any reserve. ” 

“I will tell you anything that I may, but then I be- 
seech you, oh, I entreat you, give the book back to me.” 

“ Is this my proud, wilful, unbending Fay, — this girl 
who entreats so bewitchingly ?” 

At these words of the Professor’s, Heinrich noiselessly 
and wisely retired, — but at the bottom of the first flight 
of stairs he sat down in actual terror, and seized his gray 
head with both hands, as if to satisfy himself that, after 
what he had just heard, it remained in its old place. 

“You went up to-day to the rooms under the roof ex- 
pressly to get this book, then ?” inquired the Professor. 

“Yes.” 

“How did you get there? I found all the doors 
locked.” 

“ I went over the roofs,” she replied with hesitation. 

“That is, through the upper rooms?” 

She blushed. Although she was entirely acquitted of 
all sinister design, still her mode of entering what was 
now his room was suspicious. 

“Ho,” she said in great confusion, “there is no way 
thither through the upper rooms, — I got out of the garret 
window and came across on the roofs.” 

24 * 


282 


THE OLD MAM’ SELLERS SECRET. 


“In this fearful storm 1” he ejaculated with horror 
1 Felicitas, your resolution is frightful !” 

“There was nothing else for me to do,” she replied 
sadly. 

“And why were you so bent upon gaining possession 
of this book?” 

“I looked upon it as a sacred bequest of Aunt Cordula. 
She once said to me that the gray box — I did not then 
know what it contained — must be destroyed before she 
died. Death surprised her suddenly, — and I was con- 
vinced that the box was not destroyed, — and besides, I 
knew that it lay hid in the secret repository where the 
silver was to be found. I could not point out that place 
to you without giving up the book also, which would 
then have fallen into wrong hands.” 

“Poor, poor child, how you must have suffered! And 
all this heroic daring and endurance has availed you 
nothing, — the book is after all ‘in wrong hands!” 

“Oh no, you will give it back to me,” she entreated. 

“Felicitas,” he replied, “I pray you answer me most 
truthfully two questions. Do you know the exact con- 
tents of this volume?” 

“Partly, since to-day.” 

“And do they compromise your old friend?” 

She was silent. Perhaps if she replied in the affirma- 
tive he would return her the book, having no further in- 
terest in it, but then Aunt Cordula’s memory would be 
stained by her act, and she would seem to confirm the 
terrible stories that accused her of crime. 

“It is unworthy of you to contemplate a subterfuge, 
however pure the motives may be which lead you to do 
so,” he interrupted the momentary silence. “Givem* a 
simple yes or no.” 

“No.” 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


283 


“ I knew it,” he murmured. “And now be reasonable, 
and resign yourself to the inevitable. Felicitas, I musi 
read this book.” 

She grew paler than ever, but she entreated no longer. 
“Do so,” she cried, “if you think it consistent with your 
honour. You pry into a secret that was not intended for 
your eyes. At the moment when you open the book, 
you deprive the most fearful and sustained sacrifice of a 
woman’s whole life of all result.” 

“You make a brave fight, Felicitas,” he replied, “and 
were it not for the last words which that lady” — he 
pointed in the direction in which the Councillor’s widow 
had disappeared — “uttered in her rage, I would give the 
wretched secret back to you without trying to discover 
it. But I must and will know what the disgrace is that 
stains ray name — and if the lonely tenant of the rooms 
under the roof was strong enough to guard it from 
stranger eyes during her whole life, I think I shall be 
strong enough to endure the knowledge of it. It is 
doubly my duty to investigate , the matter thoroughly. 
The Hellwig branch on the Rhine is apparently in pos- 
session of the secret, and possibly concerned in some vil- 
lainy — although you cast down your eyes and are silent, 
I see plainly that I am right in my conjecture. Doubt- 
less my cousin knew of this disgrace, and was only 
shocked to see it suddenly start up from the written 
page before her. Ah, there will be a heavy reckoning 
with these hypocrites! But take comfort, Fay,” he con- 
tinued most tenderly, gently stroking the hair above the 
forehead of the girl who stood before him in mute de- 
spair. “ I could not act differently, although my reward 
for doing so should be to call you mine. I should even 
then have to say ‘No.’” 

“I shall never forgive myself,” she moaned, “for my 
carelessness has doomed you to misery!” 


284 


TI1B OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 


“Let it console you, then, to know surely that your 
love will enable me to bear whatever fate may have in 
store for me in this life.” 

He pressed her ice-cold hand and went back to his room. 
But Felicitas leaned her hot forehead against the window- 
frame, and gazed down into the court-yard, where the 
rain was falling in such torrents that it seemed as if de- 
termined to wash away the stains of the murdered Adrian 
von Hirschsprung’s blood from the pavement — and with 
it the blot upon the name of Hellwig. 


CHAPTER XXYI. 

An hour later the Professor entered his mother’s sit- 
ting-room. His cheek might perhaps be a shade paler than 
usual, but his manner and bearing expressed more de- 
cidedly than ever the manly determination and resolution 
which characterized him. 

Frau Hellwig was sitting knitting behind her asclepias 
plant ; row after row those large white hands completed 
— like the rounds of a ladder upon which she should 
mount straight to heaven — for it was a missionary stock- 
ing that she was at work upon. 

Her son laid a little worn book upon the table before 
her. 

“I must speak with you, mother, concerning a very im- 
portant matter,” he said, — “but first let me beg you to 
glance your eye over the contents of this book.” 

She laid the stocking down in great astonishment, put 
on her spectacles, and took up the book. “Ah, those are 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE S SECRET. 


285 


old Cordula’s scribblings,” she said harshly, but she began 
to read. 

The Professor put his left hand behind him, and stroking 
his beard continually with his right, silently paced to and 
fro in the apartment. 

“I cannot see what possible interest this childish love- 
affair with the shoemaker’s son can have for me,” cried 
Madame impatiently, after she had read a couple of pages. 
“ What induced you to bring me the old trash ? It scents 
the whole room with mould.” 

“I pray you read on, mother,” said her son. “You 
will soon forget the disagreeable odour in what the book 
further contains.” 

She opened it again with evident reluctance, and looked 
over several pages. But suddenly the rigid features ex- 
pressed great attention — the leaves were turned with fe- 
verish haste. A slight colour appeared in the pale cheeks, 
extended to the forehead and deepened to a flush. Strangely 
enough, however, Madame experienced neither terror nor 
horror, but testified only overwhelming surprise, in which 
there was soon a large admixture of contempt, as she let 
the book fall in her lap. 

* ‘ These are wonders indeed ! Who would have dreamed 
of such a thing 1 The honourable, highly-respected Hell- 
wig family!” she said, striking her hands together, — in 
her voice hate, triumph, and gratified malice strove for the 
mastery. ‘ ‘ Then the money-bags upon which my mother- 
in-law so prided herself were stolen, — aha! she flaunted 
it in silk and velvet, — she gave entertainments where 
champagne flowed like water, and where they all flattered 
the gay, brilliant hostess. And I had to wait upon her 
riotous guests! No one noticed, in the presence of the 
proud mistress of the house, the poor young relative who 
yet stood far above all those miserable rioters in her fear 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET. 


of the Lord. How often have I ground my teeth and 
prayed to my God in my heart that he would in his right- 
eousness punish their wickedness! He had already 
judged them. Oh, how wondrous are his ways! It was 
stolen money that they squandered. Their souls are 
doubly lost 1” 

Her son was standing still in the middle of the room. 
He had not for a moment foreseen such a result to his 
request that his mother would peruse the little book. 

“I cannot understand, mother,” he said after a short 
pause, “how you can hold my grandmother responsible, 
— she was entirely unconscious that the money which she 
spent was stolen. According to your view, our souls 
must be lost too, since we have gone on until to-day 
spending the interest of this sum. However, you will be 
onlj the more anxious to assist me in getting rid of the 
ill-gotten gold — in giving up every farthing of it as soon 
possible.” 

Hitherto in her astonishment, Frau Hellwig had re- 
mained sitting with her hands quietly folded in her lap. 
Now she started, and putting them upon the arms of 
her chair, she pushed it back a short distance upon the 
floor. 

“ Giving up?” she repeated, as if uncertain whether she 
had heard correctly. “To whom?” 

“Why, to the Hirschsprung heirs, of course.” 

“How — pay such an enormous sum to the first miser- 
able vagabond who may lay claim to it! Forty thousand 
thaler? remained to this family after ” 

“Yes, after Paul Hellwig, the man of unstained integ- 
rity, the champion of God, one of the chosen of the Lord, 
had appropriated twenty thousand thalers!” interrupted 
the Professor, trembling with indignation. “Mother, 
you say my grandmother’s soul is lost because she un- 


TIIE OLD MAM’ SELLERS SECRET. 


287 


consciously lived upon stolen money. What does he de* 
serve, who, in cold blood, could steal such a sum?” 

“Yes, he yielded in a moment of temptation,” she re- 
plied, without losing her composure. “ He was then a 
young and thoughtless man, who had not yet entered the 
true path. Satan always selects the best and noblest 
souls to estrange from the kingdom of God, — but he has 
struggled out of the slough of sin, and it is written: 
‘There shall be joy with the angels of God over one sin- 
ner that repenteth.’ He battles unweariedly for our 
blessed faith. The money has been blessed and sanctified 
in his hands; for he uses it for aims well-pleasing to the 
Lord.” 

“We Protestants have our Jesuits among us, I see,” 
laughed out the Professor bitterly. 

“And it has been just so with what fell into our hands,” 
continued Madame, imperturbably. “Look around you! 
Does not the visible blessing of the Lord rest upon all our 
undertakings ? If the sin still clung to the gold, it could 
not bring forth such good fruit. We, you and I, my 
son, have converted into a blessing what was once a 
crime, by our zeal in the service of the Lord — our pious 
lives.” 

“ I pray you, mother, leave me out of the question,” 
her son interrupted her, unspeakably shocked by what he 
heard. He pressed his hands upon his temples with an 
expression of acute suffering. 

Madame cast one venomous glance towards him as he 
made his protestation, and then continued in a raised 
voice: “We are not justified in throwing away, to be 
squandered in riotous living, the means which we devote 
to such pious purposes. This is the principal reason why 
I shall oppose with all my might any revival of this for- 
gotten story. My further reason is that, by stirring at 


THE OLD MAM' SELLS' S SECRET. 


^8 

aix in the matter, you bring disgrace upon one of your 
ancestors.” 

“He brought disgrace upon himself, and upon us all,” 
said the Professor. “But we can at least rescue our own 
honour by refusing to be dissemblers.” 

Frau Hellwig left her arm-chair, and approached her son 
clothed in all the commanding dignity of her character. 

“ Well, then,” she said, “suppose that I should agree 
with you in your ridiculous views. Let us take these 
forty thousand thalers, which, by-the-way, would reduce 
us to very moderate means of subsistence, — but let that 
go. Let us, I say, take this money, and return every 
penny of it. What, if the exulting heirs should then de- 
mand interest and compound interest, — what then?” 

“I do not think they would be entitled to do so, — but 
if they did, we must remember that ‘The sins of the 
fathers are visited on the children.’ ” 

“I am no Hellwig by birth — remember that, my son,” 
«he interrupted him. “I brought an unblemished name 
. — the same borne by your grandmother before her mar- 
riage — into this house. My father was court councillor, 
the shame does not touch me, and I am not inclined to 
make any pecuniary sacrifice to wash out the blot. Should 
I, do you think, starve in my old age on account of the 
sin of others?” 

“Starve while you have a son who can take care of 
you! Mother, do you not know that I can easily pro- 
vide a comfortable, even a luxurious old age for you?” 

“I thank you, my son!” she said icily. “But I prefer 
to live upon my own income and be my own mistress. I 
hate a state of dependence. Since your father’s death I 
have known no will but the Lord’s and my own, and so 
it must be in the future. And now do not let us quarrel 
about nothing. I declare to you that I hold the whole 


THE OLD MAM' SELLE' S SECRET. 


289 


story tc be an invention of that crazy old woman who 
lived under the roof. Nothing in the world can force me 
to believe it really true.” 

At this moment the door opened noiselessly, and the 
Councillor’s widow entered. The beautiful creature had 
been crying, but not this time as a Mater Dolorosa, — the 
traces of her grief were plainly visible in her reddened 
eyelids, and in the blotches upon her velvet, cheeks. Pas- 
sion had raged within this tender soul, — there was no 
doubt of it, although she had done her best to conceal its 
undeniable consequences, and to present to the world a 
touching picture of suffering innocence. In order to hide 
her dishevelled hair she had wound around her head a 
white tulle scarf. The lovely face looking out from the 
airy cloud-like fabric, from beneath which some fair curls 
escaped, was most picturesque. She had evidently at- 
tempted to regain once more, by the aid of her tulle, her 
former expression of childlike grace. 

She saw the fatal book lying upon the table, and started. 
Siowly, like some penitent, she advanced towards the 
Professor, and with averted face held out her hand to him 
— he declined to take it. 

“Forgive me, John,” she entreated. “Ah, I cannot 
account to myself for my impatience and irritation, — I, 
who am usually so placid in mind, how could I be so ex- 
cited! But that miserable book is to blame. Only think, 
1 ohn, how it compromises my dear papa, and besides I so 
longed to save you at all risks from such a humiliating 
discovery. I really cannot help thinking that Caroline 
hunted up the wretched story that she might wreak her 
spite upon us before her departure ” 

“Hold your slanderous tongue!” he cried menacingly, 
and with such suddenness that she was silent in terror. 
“ Toil shall have the forgiveness that you ask of me,” he 
T 25 


290 


TEE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


added, after a pause, regaining his composure by a strug- 
gle, “but upon one condition.” 

She looked at him inquiringly. 

“ That you tell me, without any reserve, how you ar- 
rived at the knowledge of this secret.” 

She stood silent for a moment, and then she began in a 
melancholy voice. “In papa’s last illness, which, you 
know, we all feared would be fatal, he asked me to bring 
him from his secretary various papers, which I was to 
destroy before his eyes. They were Hirschsprung docu- 
ments, which he had apparently preserved as curiosities. 
Whether the probable approach of death made him com- 
municative, or whether he felt the necessity of telling 
some one of his past life, I cannot say, — but, — he took 
me into his confidence ” 

“And gave you a certain bracelet, did he not?” asked 
her cousin, interrupting her. 

She silently assented, looking up at him imploringly 
and helplessly. 

“After this disclosure, do you still hold the contents of 
the book to be the wanderings of delirium?” said the Pro- 
fessor turning to his mother with a cold smile. 

“I only know that this person’s transcendent giddiness 
and folly exceed everything that I have ever imagined. 
The demon of vanity, always by her side, induced her to 
put on the strange bracelet which all the world would 
notice, that the pretty white arm might be noticed also.” 

The young widow cast one flaming glance upon her 
aunt, who so ruthlessly exposed her weaknesses — a glance 
which did not belong to her role of suffering penitent. 

“ I will not inquire, Adele, how the wearing of stolen 
property consists with the purity and innocence of your 
soul, about which you have so much to say upon every 
occasion,” remarked her cousin with forced composure, — 
in his voice there was something like the low muttering 


TEE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


291 


of a coming tempest. “It is for you to decide who is the 
most culpable, the mother who steals bread for her chil- 
dren, or the wealthy woman who revels in luxury and 
receives stolen goods. But that you could have the inso- 
lence to offer this stolen ornament so ostentatiously to the 
innocent girl who had just saved your child’s life — you 
said expressly that you prized the bracelet highly, but 
that you would gladly sacrifice your most valued posses- 
sion for Anna’s sake — that you dared besides, in right of 
your stainless descent, to cast reflections upon that girl’s 
birth, arrogating to yourself all the virtues which spring 
from spotless antecedents, and degrading her as of a de- 
praved origin, while you were all the while cognizant of 
your father’s deed , — that was so infamous an act that it 
cannot be judged too severely.” 

The young widow tottered, closed her eyes, and with 
uncertain hand grasped the table-cover as if to support 
herself. 

“You are not altogether wrong, John,” said Madame, 
shaking the apparently fainting woman roughly by the 
arm — all fainting women were an abomination to her — 
“there is some truth in what you say, but your last sen- 
tence was too much. Adele has certainly been very silly, 
but you must not on that account forget what is due to 
her position. Your comparison with the poor woman was, 
excuse me, rather out of place. There is a decided dif- 
ference between keeping property that has no owner, and 
stealing bread from another’s store. But that is all the 
result of these modern ideas that would always be com- 
paring common people with those of rank and station. I 
am extremely surprised to hear you speak so. And to 
compare a girl like Caroline — such a low person — with a 
lady!” 

“Mother, I declared to you this afternoon in the garden 
that I would no longer suffer these inexcusable assaults 


292 


THE OLD MAM’SELLE' £ SECRET. 


upon Felicitas’ honour, ” cried the Professor, while the 
veins upon his forehead swelled with anger. 

“Oho! I must request a little more self-control and 
respect in my presence. Remember I am your mother,” 
she said, commandingly, while she extended her hand 
with a repellant gesture, and an annihilating glance shot 
from her cold eyes. “You play the part of knight to 
• this wandering princess excellently well, — in a little 
while there will be nothing for me to do but pay her the 
tribute of my deep respect.” 

“If I should ask you to do so, you would surely com- 
ply with my request, mother,” her son replied with great 
composure. “ I am sure you will not refuse her your 
respect and esteem when I tell you that I trust she will 
one day be my wife.” 

And — yes, the old house really remained standing 
after this announcement ! The earth did not yawn and 
swallow up the little town with the unworthy descendant 
of all the Hellwigs, as Madame, in the first shock of 
astonishment, expected it would, — and he stood there 
cool and collected, the image of a man clear in his own 
mind, upon whom feminine rage, hysterics, and tears 
could make no more impression than tossing waves upon 
a rock. 

Frau Hellwig staggered back, actually speechless; but 
the Councillor’s widow instantly recovered from her im- 
pending fainting-fit and burst into hysteric laughter. 
The transfiguring tulle fell from her head upon her 
neck, disclosing the dishevelled hair in which the crim- 
son rose placed there in the afternoon was perishing 
miserably. 

“This is the end of your boasted wisdom, aunt,” she 
cried shrilly. “Now it is my turn to boast. Who begged 
and prayed you to get this girl married at all hazards 
before John came home? I had a presentiment the first 


THE OLD HAM'SELLE'S SECRE1. 


293 


time I looked at her that she would bring misfortune to 
us all. And now you must bear the disgrace to which 
you so resolutely shut your eyes. But I shall return 
immediately to Bonn, to inform our Professors’ wives 
there what a charming creature will shortly claim admit- 
tance into their exclusive circle.” 

And she rushed out of the room. 

In the mean time Madame recovered from her aston- 
ishment, and spoke again in all the conscious worth and 
dignity of her nature. 

“I evidently misunderstood your last remark, John,” 
she said, with great apparent calmness. 

“If so, let me repeat it,” he replied. “I hope to marry 
Felicitas d’Orlowska.” 

“Do you dare to avow such a purpose in my pres- 
ence?” 

“Instead of answering you, let me ask you, would you 
now consent to my marriage with Adele?” 

“Most certainly would II it would be a most suitable 
match — would fulfil my earnest wishes.” 

The Professor ground his teeth to control the flood of 
stormy words that rose to his lips. 

“This declaration on your part deprives you of the last 
atom of authority to decide in any important question for 
me,” he said with forced calmness. “You never take into 
consideration that this despicable woman, this wretched 
hypocrite, would poison my whole existence. You would 
sit here in your comfortable home and content yourself 
with saying of your absent son, ‘ He married most suit- 
ably.’ Let me tell you, mother, that I cannot respect 
such boundless selfishness, — I long for happiness, and I 
can find it only with the orphan girl whom we have long 
treated so cruelly.” 

Frau Hellwig burst into a scornful laugh. 

25 * 


294 


THE OLD MA M ’ SELLE ' S SECRET. 


“1 will still restrain myself,” she said, — “but remem- 
ber ‘A father’s blessing builds the son’s mansion, but a 
mother’s curse levels it with the ground.’ ” 

“Can you maintain that your blessing could wash 
away Adele’s faults of character? Nor can a curse have 
any effect if it is pronounced upon an innocent head. 
You will not speak it, mother ! God will not listen to it 
— it would come home to you and make your old age 
lonely and loveless.” 

“What do I care! I only know two 'things in the 
world, they are what I think of — honour and disgrace. 
You shall respect my will — it is your duty to recall your 
words.” 

“Never, mother, rely upon it!” cried her son, and left 
the room, while she stood like a statue with her arms 
stretched out in an attitude of command. Did those 
tight-drawn bloodless lips ever utter the curse? Not a 
sound was heard in the hall, — if it were uttered, the air 
refused to carry it, — a God of love does not entrust such 
terrible power to the wicked and revengeful. 

In the large square of the court-yard the shadows of 
night were already falling. The rain had ceased, but 
dark flying storm-clouds were driving and chasing each 
other across the sky as if seeking to unite their forces for 
another attack. 

In the young widow’s rooms doors were opened and 
shut hastily, trunks pushed about, and clumsy and trip- 
ping footsteps heard running to and fro, — the tenants 
there were packing up for departure never to return. 
“Aha, this is the end of the forget-me-nots!” muttered 
old Heinrich to himself with delight as he carried a large 
ttunk into the passage. 

How composed and calm after all the bustle and hurry 
the pale young face looked behind the bow-window across 


THE OLD MAM* SELLS 8 SECRET. 


295 


the court-yard! A kitchen lamp was burning on ihe 
table, and beside it stood the little sealskin trunk con- 
taining Felicitas’ childish wardrobe. An hour before 
Madame, stocking in hand, had given orders to have ‘the 
girl’s things’ all taken to her ‘that she might have no 
reason for spending another night in the house.’ Felicitas 
was just examining the old seal by the dim light of the 
lamp when the Professor’s pale face appeared outside of 
the bow-window. 

“ Come, Felicitas, — you must not stay a moment longer 
in this wretched house. Leave those things here, — Hein- 
rich can take them to you to-morrow.” 

She threw her shawl over her shoulders, and met him 
in the hall. He took her hand firmly in his, drew it under 
his arm, and conducted her through the street until he 
rang at Madame Franz’s door. 

“I bring you a fugitive,” he said to the old lady, whe 
received them in her comfortable, well-lighted room with 
a smile of welcome, but in great astonishment. He took 
her hand and l^id Felicitas’ within it. “ I confide her to 
you, dear friend,” he said, significantly, “guard and 
protect her like a daughter — until I can ask her of you 
again.” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

Felicitas had only passed through a few streets and 
crossed two thresholds, and yet what a change had these 
few steps effected in her outward and inward existence ! 
The huge pile of the old house on the Square lay behind 
her, and with it she had cast off all traces of the unkind- 
ness which she had endured. Wherever she looked now, 


296 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


she saw only bright sunshine, — there was not a particle 
of gloomy pietism in her new abode, — not an atom of 
that stern pretence of religion which brooded over the 
Hellwig house, like some dark bird of prey. A healthy 
interest in all that was going on in the world, and a 
cheerful, affectionate home-life characterized the Franz 
household. Felicitas felt in her element. There was a 
pleasing pain in the sound of the old endearing names 
which Aunt Cordula had once given her, and which she 
now heard again. She became at once the pet of the 
two old people — Councillor and Madame Franz. 

Thus her outward life was changed indeed, — and how 
was it with her inward life? She was herself not clear 
concerning that, but her uncertainty was not hard to en- 
dure. That evening when the Professor had called her, 
she had left her few possessions, without a word, — in 
the hall she had laid her hand in his and followed him 
willingly, without asking him whither, and if he had led 
her along the dim streets , and away through the gate of 
the little town, she would have followed, him still with- 
out a shade of distrust or doubt. She was an odd com- 
bination. With all her burning imagination, her strange 
enthusiasm, she was unrelenting in her demand for a 
firm foundation of principle and well-trained will in life. 
The Professor’s earnest pleadings — his agonized en- 
treaties had wrung her heart, but had failed to effect 
any change in her fixed resolution, — something else was 
needed to win her entirely, and this something had hap- 
pened without his knowledge. When he refused to re- 
turn the book to her he had said — “I could not act dif- 
ferently, although my reward for doing so should be to 
call you mine.” In spite of the grief and distress then 
racking her very soul, her heart bounded at the thought 
of the cjear manly strength of will that obeyed the call 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE’S SECRET. 


29T 


of honour at all hazards. She was filled with that bound- 
less confidence in him without which life by his side 
would have been impossible for her. 

Every day he came to Councillor Franz’s. He was 
graver and more reserved than ever, — he was bearing 
burdens heavy to be borne. His residence in his mother’s 
house had become unendurable. Apparently the previ- 
ous unusual mental agitation had affected even her iron 
nerves. She became ill and was confined to her bed. 
She persistently refused to see her son, — Doctor Boehm 
attended her, — but her illness of course detained the Pro- 
fessor in X . In the mean time he had imparted the 

family secret to young Franz as curator of the possible 
Hirschsprung heirs, and had announced to him his de- 
termination to atone for the wrong. His friend endeav- 
oured to combat his resolution, or at least to modify it 
from a legal point of view, — but the Professor shattered 
his arguments by the simple question — ‘ Do you consider 
the money honestly come by?’ — to which even the young 
advocate could not say ‘yes.’ However, Franz agreed 
with Madame that it was a coil about nothing, for he 
had no faith in the existence of any Hirschsprung heirs. 
But he was not inclined to spare the respectable Paul 
Hellwig — the strait-laced relative on the Rhine — a nerv- 
ous shock, and therefore the champion of the Lord was 
legally summoned to produce the stolen twenty thousand 
thalers. The pious man replied quietly, with his accus- 
tomed unction, that he had undoubtedly received that 
amount of money from his uncle, in liquidation of an old 
debt owing to his father from the principal branch of the 
Hellwigs. Whence his uncle had procured the money 
he had no idea, — it was no affair of his, and gave him no 
concern whatever. At present the money was in the 
best possible hands, — he did not consider his property as 


2£8 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


belonging to himself, — it was the Lord’s, — he was only 
the steward of his wealth. He should most assuredly 
retain the sum alluded to, and was quite sure the law, 
which must decide, would justify him in so doing. 

Nathanael’s views were very similar. It made no pos- 
sible difference to him that some man who had been dead 
for half a century had committed a crime, — he did not 
consider it his duty to whitewash other people’s char- 
acters, and should certainly not yield up one penny of 
his inheritance. He looked forward with great com- 
posure, he wrote, to the future lawsuit, which would cost 
the probable heirs dear, and his lofty-minded brother his 
good name. 

“ Then there is nothing for me to do,” said the Profes- 
sor, throwing the two letters, which bore such witness 
to the keen sense of honour of the Hellwigs, upon the 
table, “ but to sacrifice every penny of my inheritance, if 
I do not wish to be an accomplice in the crime.” 

And thus the last two weeks of the holidays gradually 
slipped away. Frau Hellwig had left her bed, but had 
declared her firm resolution of never seeing her son again, 
unless he consented to admit the whole Hirschsprung 
affair to be utter nonsense, and to give up all thoughts 
of Felicitas. Of course mother and son were separated 
forever. 

Felicitas was in a state of mind not easy to describe. 
Every afternoon, in her new home at the accustomed 
hour she sat at the window with a beating heart — cast- 
ing stolen glances into the street without — until a well- 
known powerful figure appeared in the distance. Then 
she exerted all her self-control not to run to meet him. 
He came nearer and nearer — looking neither to the right 
nor the left, his gaze riveted upon the window, behind 
which the lovely head was bent over its work; at last 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


299 


the moment came when she could look up — their eyes 
met — ah, what bliss life contained of which the young- 
heart hitherto had never even dreamed! The Professor 
never alluded to his love again. Felicitas might have 
thought that the experiences of the last few weeks had 
crowded it from his mind had it not been for his eyes — 
but those gray eyes followed her unweariedly as she 
moved about the room, busy with her household cares ; 
they lighted up when she entered, or when she lifted her 
head from her work and turned her face towards him. 
She knew that she was still his Fay — whom he longed 
to dream of as w T aiting for him at home, and always 
thinking of him. And she whose heart had once been 
so filled with hatred, and whose looks had been so cold, 
did not dream w~hat a charm there was about her now, 
how all the stern unbending points in her character were 
subdued by her soul-engrossing love. 

But the time was to come to-morrow when she might 
sit at the window and await him in vain. In the after- 
noon, when his hour for coming drew near, he would be 
far, far away from her — a crowd of strange faces would 
separate him from his love — and perhaps a whole long- 
dreary year pass before she should see him once more. 
She looked wearily into such a future — into which she 
was drifting. 

The day before the Professor’s departure, the Franz 
family and Felicitas were sitting at dinner, when the ser- 
vant handed a card to the young lawyer. A deep flush 
of astonishment rose to his face — he threw the card upon 
the table and left the room. Upon the shining little piece 
of pasteboard was written * Baron Lutz von Hirschsprung 
— from Kiel.’ A manly well-bred voice was heard speak- 
ing in most excellent German in the hall, — and then the 
two gentlemen went into the lawyer’s study. 


300 


THE OLD MAM’SELLE'S SECRET. 


While Councillor and Madame Franz were engaged in 
a lively conversation about this man, who had appeared 
as from the land of fable, Felicitas sat by them in the 
greatest agitation of mind. The poor player’s child, 
who, deprived of every family tie, had hitherto lived en- 
tirely among strangers, suddenly knew that she was be- 
neath the same roof with a near relative, connected with 
her by the ties of blood. Was it her grandfather or her 
mother’s brother? Had that voice, whose quiet tones 
had thniied through every fibre of her frame, once pro- 
nounced a curse upon the recreant daughter of the Hirsch- 
sprungs i 

The stranger’s name was precisely the one borne by his 

ancestor who had left X to seek his home in distant 

countries. It was engraved upon his card with aristo- 
cratic ostentation. We love to search out names from 
vanished ages. Involuntarily, at the sound of them some 
mailed knightly figure rises upon our mental vision, and 
they testify to aristocratic blood, although they suit oddly 
enough the pigmy race in black dress-coats of to-day. 
Evidently this branch of the Hirschsprungs valued its 
ancient ancestry most highly, — it would certainly have 
been difficult for the juggler’s daughter to make good her 
claim to relationship with Baron von Hirschsprung. At 
the thought of a repulse, Felicitas’ blood boiled, — she com- 
pressed her lips as if to keep down every quick word 
that might escape them in her excitement. But yet sht> 
could not control her ardent desire to see the man, and 
the opportunity was about to present itself. 

Soon after the stranger’s arrival, the lawyer sent for 
the Professor. The conference between the three gen- 
tlemen lasted for more than two hours. During this 
time of intense expectation, Felicitas continually heard 
the step of the Professor pacing to and fro. In her imag- 


TIIE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


301 


mation she saw the man of science as, stroking his heard 
with his white hand, he offered to the aristocrat money 
and estate that the stain might be erased from the honour 
of his name. 

At length young Franz sent to his mother to say that 
when coffee was ready he would bring his guest with him 
to her drawing-room. Felicitas was giving a few addi- 
tional orders in the kitchen when she heard the gentle- 
men descending the stairs. Her courage almost failed 
her as she saw the stranger in earnest conversation with 
the Professor pass slowly through the hall. He was 
tall — almost too tall, for his figure was rather slender — 
and every gesture betrayed the finished man of the world, 
while his whole bearing was that of one born to com- 
mand — of the self-conscious aristocrat. He could not 
possibly be her grandfather, — the refined features with 
the short brown hair were far too young for that. At 
present he was bending towards the Professor with a 
courteous smile, — but his classic profile, with its sallow 
complexion and thin lips, was evidently more accustomed 
to express command than gentleness or sensibility. 

Felicitas stroked her hair back from her brow with 
trembling hands and entered the room into which the 
servants had already carried the coffee. They were all 
standing in the recess of a window with their backs turned 
to her as she softly entered. She noiselessly filled the 
cups, and, taking up one, handed it with some courteous 
words to the stranger, — he turned abruptly at the sound 
of her voice, staggered back as though he had received a 
blow, while his face grew white, and his startled gaze 
wandered over the beautiful figure before him. 

“Meta!” he gasped hoarsely. 

“Meta von Hirschsprung was my mother,” she said in 
a low melodious voice, with apparent composure, although 

26 


302 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


she put down the cup which began to tremble in her 
hand. 

“ Your mother! I did not know that she had left a 
child,” he muttered, endeavouring to master his emotion. 

Felicitas smiled contemptuously, in part at the thought 
of her own weakness, which, spite of all her good resolu- 
tions, had betrayed her into acknowledging to this man 
her parentage. There had been not the faintest sound of 
love or sympathy in the tones of his voice, even when the 
sudden shock of surprise had thrown him olf his guard, 
and she felt that she had exposed berself to great humil- 
iation before all present, who were awaiting the denoue- 
ment of the astounding scene in speechless amazement. 

Gradually Baron von Hirschsprung’s surprise passed 
away, but only to be succeeded by most painful confusion. 
He passed his hand over his eyes, and said stammering- 
ly, — “Yes, yes, very true; it was in this same little town 

of X that the nemesis overtook that unfortunate 

woman, — a fearful but a just nemesis.” 

He seemed to recover perfect self-possession as he ut- 
tered these last words. He stood erect, and addressing 
himself with well-bred grace to those present, said : “ Par- 
don me ; overcome by a momentary surprise, I did not 
remember that I was in the presence of others! I thought 
a drama, in w r hich my family had some share, entirely at 
an end forever, when suddenly I am confronted with an 
unexpected after-piece! You are then the daughter of 
the juggler d’Orlowsky?” he continued, turning to Feli- 
citas, and evidently attempting to express careless good 
humour in his tone. 

“Yes,” she answered shortly, and confronted him with- 
out flinching, and a bearing as proud as his own. And 
now the strong family resemblance between the two was 
very striking. Pride was the distinguishing character* 


THE OLD MAM’ SELLERS SECRET. 


803 


istic uf those nobly-formed features, although it was dif- 
ferently expressed in the two countenances. 

“ Your father then left you in X when his wife 

died? You have grown up here?” he inquired further, 
manifestly much impressed by the imposing figure before 
him. 

“Yes!” 

“The man had not much opportunity to provide for 
you — as well as I remember he died of nervous fever in 
Hamburg about a dozen years ago!” 

“I learn from yourself for the first time that he is no 
longer living,” replied Felicitas, as the corners of her 
mouth quivered, and a tear glittered in her eyes. But 
spite of the shock of this intelligence, she experienced a 
kind of satisfaction in the knowledge that there had been 
no truth in Frau Hellwig’s repeated declaration that her 
father was vagabondizing about the world, without a 
thought for his child’s welfare, thankful enough to leave 
her to the care of others. 

“Ah, I am much pained to have been the means of 
communicating such distressing news!” said Baron 
Hirschsprung compassionately, shaking his head from 
side to side. “In him you have indeed lost the only 
relative that you possessed after the death of your mo- 
ther. There was a time when I interested myself to dis- 
cover this man’s antecedents. He was left at a very 
early age entirely alone in this world.” 

“And may I be permitted to inquire, sir, in what rela- 
tion the mother of this child stood to your family ?” asked 
Madame Franz, irritated at the heartless manner in which 
he coolly excluded Felicitas entirely from the circle of his 
high-born race. 

A slight colour suffused his face. Charming as is a 
blush upon the cheek of innocence, it is revolting upon 


304 


THE OLD MAM'SELLE'S SECRET 


the countenance of an arrogant man who is evidently 
struggling to decide whether he shall disclose or conceal 
some degrading circumstance. 

“ She was once my sister,” he said carelessly, although 
he emphasized the word once most decidedly. “I pur 
posely avoided alluding to the fact,” he continued, after 
rather a prolonged pause, “because, as matters stand, I 
am forced to make disclosures which may perhaps strike 
you as discourteous. I must communicate to this young 
lady several circumstances in connection with her mother 
which were perhaps better suppressed. Madame d’Or- 
lowska ceased forever to be a member of the family von 
Hirschsprung the moment she became the wife of the 
Pole d’Orlowsky. In our family record, beside her name 
there is no mention, as is the custom, of the man whom 
the daughter of the house married. When she crossed our 
threshold for the last time, my father with his own hand 
erased her name from the book, — a proceeding infinitely 
more wounding to his aristocratic feeling than if he had 
annexed to it the black cross which signifies ‘dead.’ 
From that time no such name as Meta von Hirschsprung 
has existed for us, not one of our friends — not even a ser- 
vant, has ever dared to utter it aloud, — my children do 
not know that they ever had an aunt, — she was disin- 
herited, cast off, and dead for us long before the horrible 
accident that occurred here some years ago.” 

He ceased for a moment. During these disclosures, 
made in a manner so hard and offensive, Madame Franz 
put her arm around Felicitas and drew her toward her 
with the tenderness of a mother. And there stood the 
Profes'scr — he did not speak — but his gaze rested unin- 
terruptedly upon the pale face of the girl who was again 
called upon to suffer so cruelly for the sake of her ‘ idol- 
ized’ mother. There was a moment of painful silence, a 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


305 


Bilence which was eloquent with a stern condemnation 
The speaker evidently could not ignore this fact — h^ con- 
tinued with some hesitation. “Let me assure you that 
it is a hard task for me to give you so much pain. I ap- 
pear even in my own eyes in such an — an unchivalrous 
light* — but, good Heavens! I must call things by their 
true names ! I should be glad to do something for you. 
What position do you occupy in this very delightful 
household ?” 

“That of a dear daughter,” answered Madame Franz 
in Felicitas’ stead, as she looked searchingly at him. 

“Then indeed yours is a most happy lot,” he said to 
Felicitas with a courteous bow to the old lady. “Unfor- 
tunately it is not in my power to vie with your noble pro- 
tectress. I could not offer you the rights of a daughter 
of my house as my parents are both alive, — in their eyes 
the circumstance of your bearing the name of d’Orlowsky 
would be an unconquerable obstacle to ever receiving you 
into their presence.” 

“How, her own grandparents!” cried the old lady in- 
dignantly. “Is it possible that they can know of the ex- 
istence of their granddaughter and be willing to die with- 
out seeing her! You can never persuade me of that.” 

“My dear Madame Franz,” replied the stranger, smiling 
coldly, “a deeply-rooted pride in the aristocracy of our 
house, and a keen feeling for its unstained honour, are 
the family characteristics of the Hirschsprungs, in which I 
share myself, — love with us always occupies a second 
place. I perfectly understand my parents’ views, and 
should in their stead do just as they have done.” 

“ Well, the men of your family may entertain such views 
as you describe,” said Madame Franz persistently, “but 
your mother — why, she must have a heart of stone to 

hear of this child and not ” 

U 26* 


306 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


“She is the most unforgiving of us all,” he interrupted 
the old lady, with assurance. “ My mother counts among 
her noble kin several of the oldest names in Germany, 
and is more jealous of the honour of her house than any 
woman whom I have ever known. However, you are 
perfectly at liberty, my dear Madame,” he added, not 
without a shade of irony in his tone, “to make an attempt 
for your protegee. I assure you that so far from opposing 
any such attempt, I will do all in my power to further 
your hopes.” 

“Oh, I pray you, do not say another word!” cried Fe* 
licitas in great distress, while she freed herself from the 
old lady’s arm and took her hand beseechingly. “Be 
assured, sir,” — she turned toward Baron von Hirsch- 
sprung, calm and collected, after an instant’s pause, 
although her lips quivered slightly, — “that it would 
never occur to me to lay claim to any rights once my 
mother’s — she willingly gave up all such for the sake of 
her love, and after everything that you have just said, I 
can well understand how happy was the exchange which 
she made. I have grown up in the belief that I stand 
alone in the world, — nothing has occurred to change this 
belief. I have no grandparents.” 

“ That sounds harsh and stern,” he said with some 
embarrassment. “But,” he continued, shrugging his 
shoulders, “as matters stand, I am compelled to desist 
from all attempts to alter your conviction. I will, how- 
ever, do everything in my power for you. I have no 
doubt that I can succeed in inducing my father to allow 
you a considerable yearly stipend. ” 

“You are very kind,” she hastily interrupted him. “I 
have just told you that I have no grandparents, — you can 
scarcely expect me to accept charity from strangers.” 

He blushed once more, but this time it was the blush 


THE OLD MAM’SELLE’S SECRET. 307 

of £hame, which perhaps suffused those aristocratic feat- 
ures for the first time in his life. Evidently much em- 
barrassed, he took up his hat. No one requested him to 
remain. In a few almost whispered words addressed to 
young Franz, he touched upon several matters of busi- 
ness, and then, as if actuated by a sudden impulse, he 
offered his hand to Felicitas, but she courtesied to him 
formally and profoundly, letting her hands drop slowly 
by her sides. 

It was a harsh retaliation for the juggler’s daughter to 
make upon a Baron von Hirschsprung; but it must be 
forgiven to her Hirschsprung blood. He recoiled in con- 
fusion, bowed with another shrug to the rest, and, stripped 
for the moment of all aristocratic dignity, left the room, 
accompanied by the young lawyer. 

As the door closed behind him, Felicitas suddenly 
buried her face in her hands and burst into tears. 

“Fay!” cried the Professor, and held out his arms. 
She looked up, and sought her refuge there. With her 
arms around his neck, she leaned her head upon his 
breast. The wild young bird was caged forever — it 
made not the smallest attempt to escape. Ah, what rest 
there was in those strong arms after its weary, lonely 
flight through storms and winds which had so tossed and 
beaten it! 

At this moment the Councillor and his wife exchanged 
a significant glance, and noiselessly left the room. 

“John, I will ,” she whispered, looking up at him with 
the tears trembling upon her eyelashes. 

“At last,” he said, clasping more closely her slender 
form. Those words made her his own. What a mingling 
of passion and tenderness glowed in the gray eyes that 
sought the smiling face upon his breast! 

“I have waited and longed for those three words from 


308 


TEE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


hour to hour,” he continued. “Thank God, they come of 
their own accord! I must else have besought for them 
again this evening, and I doubt if they would have sounded 
as deliciously in my ears as now. All, Fay, must such 
hard trials befal me before you could consent to make me 
happy!” 

“No,” she promptly replied, extricating herself from 
his clasping arms; “it was not the thought of your trials 
and suffering that conquered me, — but it was when you 
so decidedly and consistently refused to give me back 
the book, that entire confidence in you first possessed 


“And a few moments afterwards, when the secret was 
disclosed to me,” he interrupted, once more drawing her 
towards him, “ I was convinced that in spite of all your 
pride, there was the deep, undying love of woman in your 
heart for me. You would have sacrificed yourself sooner 
than have had me suffer. Ah ! we have both been taught 
in a hard school ! and do not shut your eyes, Fay, to the 
task you have undertaken. I have lost my mother — my 
faith in mankind has received a cruel blow, and — I must 
tell you this too — I possess at this moment almost no- 
thing except my profession!” 

“Ah, what happiness to be with you!” she said, laying 
her hand lightly upon his lips. “I cannot hope to re- 
place for you all that you have lost, — but whatever a 
devoted wife may do to brighten a man’s life, that shall 
be unreservedly yours.” 

“And when will these proud lips ever condescend to 
make a request of me?” he asked, smiling down upon her. 

A blush overspread cheeks and brow. 

“Ah, John, do not stay too long away from me 1” she 
whispered beseechingly. 

“And did you really think that I could go without 


THE 0L1) MAM'S EL LE'S SECRET. 


309 


you?” he said with a gentle laugh. “If the intelligence 
did not seem to fit in so well just at this moment, you 
would have waited until this evening to learn that to- 
morrow morning at eight o’clock you will leave X 

for Bonn, accompanied by Madame Franz. Our dear old 
friend has joined the plot against you, my child, — up- 
stairs in her guest chamber the trunks have been ready 
packed since yesterday, — was not my valuable advice 
asked and gravely given concerning the travelling hat 
which should rest upon that lovely head? One month 
you will spend as my betrothed with Madame von Berg, 
and then — then a charming wife will share the study of 
the grave Professor, who is, you recollect, to bring home 
angry looks and a frowning brow every day.” 


Baron von Hirschsprung substantiated his father’s and 
his own claims, as the only existing heirs of the Hirsch- 
sprung race, to the old Mam’selle’s property, which was 
all handed over to him. 

He declared all the Hirschsprung claims upon the 
House of Hellwig finally settled, when the Professor 
had added from his own inheritance thirty thousand 
thalers to Aunt Cordula’s thirty thousand, thus com- 
pleting the stolen sum of sixty thousand thalers. He 
exacted a thousand thalers from Madame Hellwig as in- 
demnification for the burned operetta of Bach’s, and she 
paid the money with grim reluctance only because she 
was assured that, in case of a lawsuit, her pecuniary 
sacrifice would be much more considerable. 

“ Why should I deny it?” said the young lawyer, with 
a blush and much agitation, to his friend the Professor, 
as they stood together in the recess of a window on the 


310 


THE OLD MAM' SELLERS SECRET. 


morning of the departure of the latter, waiting for his 
travelling companions. “I grudge you Felicitas. I knew 
her for one of the rarest of God’s creatures when I first 
saw her, and it will be a long time before I can — forget. 
But I have one consolation, — she has made another man 
of you, John, added a convert to the good cause of the 
inalienable rights of humanity. There could be no more 
thorough illustration of my healthy views concerning 
our social wrongs than the circumstance that, — forgive 
the bitter truth, — the proud Hellwigs were heavy debtors 
to the relatives of the despised player’s child. Some of 
us stand apart looking arrogantly down upon others, 
and the blind world never dreams of how rotten at the 
core are its arbitrary institutions, and that it needs the 
fresh breeze of freedom to sweep away everything that 
can foster arrogance, heartlessness, and crime.” 

“You are right, and I accept all that you say,” said 
the Professor gravely, “for, indeed, I have greatly erred 
— but the road along which I retraced my wandering steps 
was hard and very stony — and so do not grudge me my 
dearly-won prize.” 

The Professor introduced his young wife to the ‘exclu- 
sive circle’ of Bonn, as his cousin called it — and in spite 
of the last-named lady’s malicious whispers, the beautiful 
creature was received everywhere with admiration and 
love. The picture which had so ravished his fancy be- 
came a reality. Felicitas soothes away every frown from 
his brow, and when in the evening, after a day of harass- 
ing professional care, he entreats, “ Give me a song, Fay!” 
the same delicious contralto fills the room, which once 
drove him from his home to the Thuringian forest, because 
it so irresistibly attracted him to its wondrous possessor. 

Much of the furniture in the house at Bonn reminds 
us of the rooms under the roof. The piano and the busts, 


THE OLD MAM' BELLE'S SECRET. 


311 


with the luxuriant ivy, now adorn Felicitas’ own room. 
In the secret repository of the old cabinet, the young mis- 
tress of the house still keeps her old-fashioned silver, — 
but the gray box, with its contents, the Professor burned 
on the day when the claims of the Hirschsprungs were 
finally settled. Thus the account-book is destroyed, the 
wrong made right, and Aunt Cordula’s spirit can pursue 
in peace its flight, which was begun while it was still in 
the body, t~> higher spheres. 

Heinrich lives in Bonn with the young couple, ne is 
held in high honour, and leads a most contented life. 
But whenever he passes on the street the velvet-clad 
Councillor’s widow, who now dresses in silks and satins 
after the latest fashion, without a thought wasted upon 
white muslin, — while she turns away her head, as if she 
had never seen his honest face before, he mutters to him- 
self with a grin, “Those forget-me-nots were never of 
the smallest use, most gracious lady!” 

The beautiful woman can no longer adorn her white, 
faultlessly-shaped arm with the costly bracelet. Her 
father ‘conscientiously’ delivered it up to the Hirsch- 
sprung heirs, with the declaration that it had come into 
his possession by ‘mistake or chance.’ He lives at dag- 
gers drawn with his daughter, because she has had the 
‘inconceivable stupidity’ to betray his share in the rob- 
bery of the Hirschsprung gold. She has been forced to 
give up the part which she could once play so well of 
childlike innocence and naivete, — but indemnifies herself 
by unceasing activity in all pious projects for the conver- 
sion of heathen souls, — while her little Anna, left to the 
care of strangers, is doomed to an early grave. And he, 
the strict orthodox relative on the Rhine? It is not to be 
supposed that any nemesis will overtake him in this 
world. He will in pious resignation consider everything 


312 


THE OLD MAM' SELLER SECRET 


that may happen to him, only a proof of his sanctity. 
We will leave him to public opinion, — the worst punish* 
ment that can befal a hypocrite is to have his mask torn 
off in public. 

Frau Hellwig still sits behind her asclepias plant. 
Misfortune has at last crossed her consecrated threshold, 
— she has lost two children. Her son John she cast off, 
and one day she received news that Nathanael had been 
killed in a duel. He left behind him many debts and a 
sullied reputation. The iron expression of the rigid feat- 
ures is somewhat relaxed, and many maintain that the 
head, which was once carried so high in its assumption 
of infallibility, sometimes sinks wearily upon the breast. 
The Professor, a short time ago, wrote to announce to 
her the arrival of his first-born. Since that time, among 
the coarse, gray, and white balls in her knitting-basket, a 
small pink piece of knitting has lain concealed, upon 
which Madame works often in secret. Frederika declares 
that it is no missionary stocking, but a pretty little sock 
for a child. Whether the delicate rose-coloured articles 
will ever enclose the sturdy legs of the youngest mem- 
ber of the Hellwig family, we do not know, — but for the 
honour of human nature be it said : There is no soul so 
hard, that it does not contain some chord that will vibrate 
to affection, some tender spot, — although it is often un- 
conscious of the treasure if nothing happens to reveal it. 
And perhaps the love of her grandchildren may prove 
this unforeboded, tender spot, from which a mild warmth 
may stream to dissolve Madame’s icy nature. 

We hope so, dear reader! 


THE END. 


Popular Works 

PUBLISHED BY 

J. B. Lippincott & Co. 

PHILADELPHIA. 


Will be sent by mail , postpaid , on receipt of the price. 


Gideon's Rock. A Novel. By Katherine Saun* 

ders, author of “ The High Mills,” etc. With a Frontis- 
piece. i6mo. Extra cloth. $i. 

“ A simple, touching story, that goes “ It is a masterpiece.” — London 
itraight to the heart of the reader.” — Times. 

Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 


The High Mills. A Novel. By Katherine Satin - 

ders, author of •* Gideon’s Rock.” Illustrated. 8vo. Pa- 
per. 75 cents. Extra cloth. $1.25. 


“ In all the portraiture, description, 
dialogue and incicu..:t of the book 
there is a fresh originality, a vivid dra- 
matic power, a knowledge of the mys- 
tery of life, that few possess. Here is 
a writer who will be, perhaps, as great 


as George Eliot " — New York Even- 
ing Mail. 

“ In many respects one of the best 
and most powerful works of fiction that 
have been lately issued." — Boston 
Journal. 


Hester Kirton. A Novel. By Katherine S. Mac- 


Quoid, author of “ Rookstone,” “ A Bad Beginning,” 
“ Chesterford,” etc. A new edition. i6mo. Ornamented 


cloth. $1 25. 

“ It is altogether one of the best 
pnblications of the day.” — Philadel- 
phia Age. 


“ By far one of the best novels that 
have been sent to us this season.” — 
New Orleans Times. 


Rookstone. A Novel. By Katherine S. Mac - 

Quoid, author of “ Forgotten by the World,” “ Hester Kir 
ton,” “ Patty,” etc. Illustrated. 8vo. Paper cover. 75 


cents. Extra cloth. $1.25. 


“ Well constructed and clearly told. 
We recommend it to novel readers.” — 
Philadelphia Press. 


“ It is admirably written and excel- 
lent in tone .” — New York Evening 
Mail. 


PUB LIC A TIONS OF J. B. LIPP1NC0 TT & CO, 


Dorothy Fox. A novel. 

of “ How it all Happened 
tions. 8vo. Paper cover. 

“ The Quaker character, though its 
quaintness and simplicity may seem 
easy enough to catch, requires a deli- 
cate workman to do it justice. Such 
in artist is the author of ‘ Dorothy 
Fox,’ and we must thank her for a 
charming novel. The story is dramat- 
ically interesting, and the characters 
are drawn with a firm and graceful 
hand The style is fresh and natural, 
vigorous without vulgarity, simple 
without mawkishness. Dorothy her- 
self is represented as charming all 

How it all Happened. I 

“ Dorothy Fox,” etc. 12m 

“ It is not often that one finds so 
much pleasure in reading a love story, 
charmingly told in a few pages.” — 
Charleston Courier. 

“ Is a well-written little love story, 


By Louisa Parr , authet 

” etc. With numerous Illustia- 

75 cents. Extra cloth. $1.25. 

hearts, and she will charm all read- 
ers. . . We wish ‘ Dorothy Fox' many 
editions ” — Lo7tdon Tunes. 

“ One of the best novels of the sea- 
son.” — Philadelphia Press. 

“ The characters are brought out in 
life-like style, and cannot fail to attract 
the closest attention.” — Pittsburg Ga- 
zette. 

“ It is admirably told, and will estab- 
lish the reputation of the author among 
novelists. ' ’ — A Ibany A rgus. 


y Louisa Pan , author of 

1. Paper cover. 25 cents. 

in which a great deal is said in a very 
few words. ’ ’ — Philadelphia E vening 
Telegraph. 

“ A remarkably clever story.” — Bos- 
ton Saturday Evening Gazette. 


John Thompson , Blockhead , and Companion Por- 


traits. By Louisa Parr, 
i2mo. With Frontispiece. 

“ Extremely well-told stories, inter- 
esting in characters and incidents, and 
pure and wholesome in sentiment.” — 
Boston Watchman and Reflector. 

“ These are racy sketches, and be- 
long to that delightful class in which 
the end comes before the reader is 
ready for it. 

“ The style throughout is very sim- 


author of “ Dorothy Fox.” 
Extra cloth. $1.75. 

pie and fresh, abounding in strong, 
vivid, idiomatic Englisl: ” — Home 
Journal. 

“They are quite brilliant narrative 
sketches, worthy of the reputation es- 
tablished by the writer.” — Philadel- 
phia Inquirer. 

“Very presentable, very readable.” 
— New York Times. 


The Quiet Miss Godolphin y by Ruth Gairett; and 

A CHANCE CHILD, by Edward Garrett, joint authors 

of “ Occupations of a Retired Life” and “ White a? Snow.” 

With Six Illustrations by Townley Green. i6mo Cloth. 

75 cents. Paper cover. 50 cents. 

“ These stories are characterized by influence will not fail to improve and 
great strength and beauty of thought, delight .” — Philadelphia Age. 
with a singularly attractive style. Their 


St. Cecilia. A Modern Tale from Real Life. 

Part I. — Adversity. 121110. Extra cloth. $1.50. 


“ It is carefully and beautifully writ- 
ten.” — Washington Chronicle. 

** A tale that we can cheerfully re- 


commend as fr tsh, entert»*‘mng and 
well written.”- • Louisville Courier 
Journal. 


PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIFP 1 NC 0 TT < 5 r CO. 


A Story. By Florence Mont - 

“ Misunderstood,” " A Very Simple 
Fine cloth. $1.50. 


Thrown Together. 

gomery, author of 
Story,” etc. i2mo, 

“ The author of ‘ Misunderstood ’ 
has given us another charming story 
of child-life. This, however, is not a 
book for children. Adult readers of 
Miss Montgomery’s book will find 
much that will lead them to profitable 
reflection of childish character and 
many graphically touched terms of 
childish thought and expression which 
will come home to their own experi- 
;nce.” — London A thenceum. 

“ A delightful story, founded upon 
the lives of children. There is a 
thread of gold in it upon which are 
strung many lovely sentiments. There 


is a deep and strong current of religious 
feeling throughout the story, not a 
prosy, unattracth e lecturing upon re- 
ligious subjects. A good, true and 
earnest life is depicted, full of hope 
and longing, and of happy fruition. 
One cannot read this book without 
being better for it, or without a more 
tender charity being stirred up in his 
heart.” — Washington Daily Chron- 
icle. 

“ The characters are drawn with a 
delicacy that lends a charm to the 
book.” — Boston Saturday Evening 
Gazette. 


Why Did Fie Not Die f or, The Child from the 

Ebraergang. From the German of Ad. von Volckhause^, 
By Mrs. A. L. WiSTER, translator of “ Old Mam’selle’s Se 


cret,” “ Gold Elsie,” etc. 

“ Mrs. Wister’s admirable transla- 
tions are among the books that every- 
Dody reads. She certainly may be 
said to possess unusual ability in re- 
taining the peculiar weird flavor of a 
German story, while rendering it with 

( jerfect ease and grace into our own 
anguage. Few recently published 
novels have received more general 


i2mo. Fine cloth. $1.75. 

perusal and approval than * Only a 
Girl and ‘ Why Did He Not Die 
possesses in at least an equal degree 
all the elements of popularity. From 
the beginning to the end the interest 
never flags, and the characters and 
scenes are drawn with great warmth 
and power.” — New York Herald. 


Aytoun. A Romance. By Emily T. Read. Svo. 


Paper cover. 40 cents. 

“The fabric is thoroughly wrought 
and truly dramatic.” — Philadelphia 
North A merican. 


“There are elements of power in 
the novel, and some exciting scenes.” 
— New York Evening Mail. 


Old Song and New. A Volume of Poems. By 

Margaret J. Preston, author of “ Beechenbrook.” i2mo. 
Tinted paper. Extra cloth. $2. 


“ In point of variety and general 
grace of diction. ‘Old Song and New’ 
is the best volume of poems that has 
yet been written by an American 
woman, whether North or South — the 
best, because on the whole the best 
sustained and the most thoughtful.”— 
Baltimore Gazette. 

“ In this volume there is workman- j 


ship of which none need be ashamed, 
while much vies with our best living 
writers. Strength and beauty, scholar- 
ship and fine intuition are manifested 
throughout so as to charm the reader 
,and assure honorable distinction to 
the writer. Such poetry is in no danger 
of becoming too abundant.” — Phila- 
delphia North A merican. 


Margaree. A Poem. By Hampden Masson 

i6mo. Extra cloth. 75 cents. 


PUBLICATIONS of J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO . 


The Old Mam’selle's Secret. From the German of 

E. Marlitt, author of “ Gold Elsie,” etc. By Mrs. A. L. 


Wister. Sixth edition. i2mo. Cloth. $1.50. 


“A more charming story, and one 
which, having once commenced, it 
seemed more difficult to leave, we 
have not met with for many a day.” — 
The Round Table. 

“Is one of the most intense, con- 


centrated, compact novels of the day. 
. . . And the work has the minute 
fidelity of the author of ‘ The Initials,' 
the dramatic unity of Reade and the 
graphic power of George Eliot” 
Columbus ( O .) Journal. 


Gold Elsie. From the German of E. Marlitt , aatho} 

of “ The Old Mam’selle’s Secret,” etc. By Mrs. A. L 

Wister. Fifth edition. i2mo. Cloth. $1.50. 

“A charming book. It absorbs I “A charming story charmingl} 
your attention from the title-page to told .” — Baltimore Gazette. 
the end .” — The Home Circle. 


Countess Gisela. From the German of E. Marlitt , 

author of “ Gold Elsie,” etc. By Mrs. A. L. Wister. 


Third edition. i2mo. Cloth. $1.50. 


“There is more dramatic power in 
this than in any of the stories by the 
same author that we have read.” — N. 
O T imes. 

“ It is a story that arouses the inter- 


est of the reader from the outset”— 
Pittsburgh Gazette. 

“ The best work by this author.”— 
Philadelphia Telegraph. 


Over Yonder. From the German of E. Marlitt , 

author of “ Countess Gisela,” etc. Third edition. With 


a full-page Illustration. 8vo. Paper cover. 30 cents. 


‘“Over Yonder' is a charming 
novelette. The admirers of ‘ Old 
Mam’selle’s Secret’ will give it a glad 
reception, while those who are ignor- 


ant of the merits of this author will 
find in it a pleasant introduction to the 
works of a gifted writer .” — Daily Sen- 
tinel. 


The Little Moorland Princess. From the German 

of E. Marlitt, author of “ The Old Mam’selle’s Secret,” 
“ Gold Elsie,” etc. By Mrs. A. L. Wister. Fourth edi- 
tion. i2mo. Fine cloth. $1.75. 


up to its balmy influence.”— ChicMgt 
Ez 




“ By far the best foreign romance of 
the season.” — Philadelphiajjgress. 

“ It is a great luxury to giv^ one’s self 

Magdalena. From the German of E. Marlitt t 
author of “ Countess Giseld,” etc. And The Lonely Ones 
(“The Solitaries”). From the German of Paul Heyse. 
With two Illustrations. 8vo. Paper cover. 35 cents. 


“We know of no way in which a 
’eisure hour may be more pleasantly 
wliiled away than by a perusal ol 


either of these tales.” — Indiamipoli* 
Sentinel. 









> 
























C' < 


* 


> * > VT O' 

> , 0 ^ ^C' 





•X 


'K< V 
V 


** .V. < 

V> <£► © ^ '^V 'v^ J* ,v^‘ '^Z 1 - 

* ,v? V* J K <«> > * 'V •> 

.> ✓ v a V o *- > ■* A 

* .-\ O ** / s s ^ 0 * x * \ ' 

't* ^ * S < l ' B * v. * A\ ,0 N t - 

O. ,0- v * ♦.. <?> .A* t . 



& v/^jwf; x .V 

%> ' 1 * * '''' ^ ; l 

o_ 


^ ’<P ©/»' < fV r * 

s " 0 ^° y< ”"V t° N( '^^b -0 V ' v* 

v ' j^cV / / //*? 4 ' yr \\ x. <-v_ fSfc. ^ 

A " V J « '*© 0 x 

^ * ~ - ^ f " c 





' * t, v 0 ' 

* T ,y > *.' * 0 r **c- 

S - aV f ff S % 

% '<£* c «r * &\Mj/h ® V ... 

v ^ * &\W, i * * <\' z r f 

ir « c$ ® 


^ * <\V </> - 

*, (\v </*«v o *L 

\» 


i ■* A o. 


y -\*i, /~s^' \ v. 

. *' - s v 
^ r\ v ♦ 



• 0 V x 


i b 



^ *> 


% -v 

op : ^ > . -V® 

; a -tv 'es^' n 0o -<- 

. v- CK ^ ^SU ^ 

^ ^ i y ^ S^~~ a 0 • i 

»•*- v * *vsfe*'. \//|MvV= r ^ 

0 *■ O- , 0 V - * 







V- .v. * ‘ 

° ^ 

- ^ % 

/*. If 


« c? 0 X * JW^ - ^ V - i 

: At. ’iSls** x°^. :< 

^ » „ >> ♦shO 5 °, 

v a'LoJ'', > ^y * ' * °/ c> 


t> 


* 0 !M 0 N* 

W * 


^ 'V 

c, Z ' 

r C» *<* o 

* Y, Vf- , J 

^ X s V 

N c ^ ^ .. sS <° v ' * * % 

<* O 0 A ^nO^. * * 

h* l 

A j 


6 ^ 


x 00 ^. 

<* 

%. *»., 

,V * ' 6 0 % C\ V' v 

^ -VWa v <k xv> * 

~ A\ »« /Ac <Pp AS o 

Z } Z 

C X' 

» cX^£. ° 

* > <" 

% * 

.v\S . 0 N C 

o 


H 0 o x. 


- \V 

^ » 
z 


^ A. V 


;\: * 

<j> «A** J’V^/i'V ^ v. < 

W' :mMk°, y A . 

c >, z 




* * /■ 



^ V< v : „ 

r> ✓ 

.^X'** o°v 

C ^N • A y.^« ✓ x 

*fe o* • 

n/ ** M m f * A t^ 


* 9 I 



^ 0 J 

N* v <*► 





LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 





















